Five Times It's Pretty Boy And One Time It's Something Else
by Blue McLain
Summary: When they meet for the first time, Reid is nothing more than a way too young brainiac in Derek's eyes. But time goes by, things change, the team grows and the bonds that formed a unit slowly create a family. M/R (pre-)slash in later chapters.
1. First Time

Hello everyone!

I'm back with something new that I want to share with you lovely people.

What can I say about this story? I came up with the basic idea about a year ago as I was riding the train back home, and it was completely different from what it's supposed to be now. At that time, I wasn't sure what to make out of it. Then I remembered recently how much I actually like those "five times and one time" stories and I thought I could use the half-baked plot from back then here and try my own five/one. I changed the perspective from second person to third person, and here we go.

It starts pre season one and I'm probably messing up the time line a lot, and I'm sorry about that in advance.

This will be _**(pre-)slash**_ later on, but up to chapter three you should be fine, if that's not your cup of tea. I guess. Still, you have been warned now what course this will take in the long run, so please no complaints afterwards.

Spoiler warnings, anyone? Up to season six or seven, I think. I'm not entirely sure about that, yet.

Oh, and another warning: this story isn't completed yet. I have the plot mostly down, I know what I want to write, I just have to actually still write it. I don't normally do this, publishing a story that isn't finished, but I hope and I think it will be done soon. So please be patient and bear with me. And most importantly:

Enjoy!

* * *

O~O

**I. First time.**

When he sees Spencer Reid for the first time, Derek barely even notices him.

Well, this is probably not quite right, because, truth be told, Derek surely does notice him. And it is rather hard not to, actually. A kid, strolling through the bull pen as if he is looking for his mother, is bound to attract attention. Nobody intervenes, though, so Derek does the same and chooses to do nothing, since someone like that kid seems highly unlikely to mean danger in any way possible.

In the brief instant Derek grants him his attention, he can see Reid scanning the room with huge dark eyes. Not huge in awe or nervousness, but simply way too big for a boy his age. For a boy in general, and, let's face it, he is nothing more than a boy right then and there. For some reason, not now but in retrospective, this picture of young Dr. Reid will be engraved in Derek's memory, a constant part when he thinks about him. He will try to think back to this moment right here, every now and then, and think all kinds of thoughts.

Yet so far, Spencer Reid is just a nameless kid – even though, some day, Derek will start to wonder whether he has ever been _just a kid_ – and he dismisses him entirely after a few seconds, turning back to the never ending trail of paper work on his desk.

He doesn't come to mind again. Really. College boys like him… sometimes it feels like Derek has already seen enough of them to fill an entire life.

And besides, there are more important things that call for Derek's attention. Rumors came up that the BAU would welcome a new team member, rather soon at that. This is kind of big news, because it means they are important enough to add some more strength to the team, more brainpower and new perspectives. What they do is acknowledged.

They change things. They make a difference. And this is something Derek has to keep in mind at all times.

He wonders who it will possibly be, the fresh pair of eyes. We all know, of course, who the new member is, in the end – but at that time, Derek would have never, _never_ guessed that it happens to be the skinny kid with the big eyes.

* * *

"Ah, there he is," is all the warning Derek gets when, one day, just before lunch, Hotch tracks him down in the bull pen. "Morgan," he calls and Derek doesn't even try to pretend and ignore it.

Without thinking twice, he turns and makes his way up to him. He has learned pretty fast that one of the wisest decisions he could make is to keep in with a guy who, quite possible, could be the head of the FBI one day. Still, Derek is a little flabbergasted as he recognizes Reid standing next to him, looking like Hotch took him to the 'Bring your kid to work!'-day – even though he isn't _Reid _yet, and Derek doesn't really recognize him, either. His features merely seem vaguely familiar, like he is a witness Derek has talked to sometime ago.

Only that he isn't. We all know that, he isn't.

"Just a minute," Hotch promises and turns slightly to include the third party in that little conversation. "I want to introduce you to Dr. Spencer Reid. He'll be working with us from now on. Dr. Reid," he addresses the boy next to him, "please meet special agent Derek Morgan, our expert on obsessional crime. I'm sure you can learn a lot from him. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. We're a team and we operate as one."

Derek can see every muscle in Reid's neck work as he swallows. His eyes are wide, still dark but not so much, there is nothing particularly special about them. Reid's face hardens and his shoulders stiffen, Derek doesn't think he is even aware of that, and he seems small, boyish. In fact, though, he is as tall as Derek, if not a little taller.

"Uh, hi," Reid chokes out finally, "hi, I'm Spen-, Re-, my, my name's Spencer Reid."

"Yeah, I got that," Derek says, offering his hand. "Derek Morgan." The kid surely got that as well, but hell, what else to do? Stupid polite phrases.

But Reid doesn't attempt to take his hand, he doesn't even think about it. All he does is raising his own hand and offering a little wave instead, lips pressed together that they almost form a smile, but not quite.

He swallows again, clearly nervous now, and Derek shoots a glance at Hotch, because really, what is it with that wave? That guy? That whole freaking matter, when Derek is already at it. That kid looks like he is still stuck in puberty, Hotch, Gideon, _everybody_ got to realize this. Gideon, exactly, where the hell is he? Why did he let the Bureau do something like that, hiring a boy of not even twenty, if Derek would have to make a guess? And they call him a doctor? Honestly, they have _got_ to be kidding – this is not a kindergarten here.

Hotch makes his eyebrows twitch, barely visible, and exhales silently. What, so he doesn't know, either? What the hell is going on?

Reid looks like he is about to jump out of his skin, hands clenched into while knuckle fists at his sides. His hair is a little longer than the average bureau haircut that appears around here, but everything is plastered in place, and as Reid jerks his head the tiniest bit to the side, Derek comes to think that the kid isn't used to his hair that way. He wants to shake it out of his eyes but there isn't even the hint of a need for it.

"Why don't I show you your desk?" Hotch offers with professional kindness. The kid seems relieved, Derek has no idea why, and is ready to follow Hotch wherever he might lead him. Almost adorable, if this whole situation wouldn't be freaking ridiculous.

And the funniest thing is: they don't even make it three steps in the actual direction.

"I'm afraid this'll have to wait," Derek hears Gideon say, as if on cue, and, out of nowhere, he appears behind Derek to simply pass him by. Derek's reaction is too slow or maybe Gideon's movements are too fast, Derek can't say for sure, eyes spinning from behind him to in front of him, slightly worrying that the unit chief might accidentally run him over. Derek knows what that means and it is… wow.

Wow, really, just _wow_. Since when do they babysit prepubescent newbies while chasing down psychotic Unsubs?

"Round table room," Gideon announces quietly, glancing at everyone in the group, before shifting the stack of files he holds from one hand to the other and touching the kid's arm to guide him. "Good to see you, Dr. Reid," he says, just a few steps ahead of Derek and Hotch. "I'm glad you made it in time. Already met agent Morgan?"

Of course he did, Gideon has seen that himself, he basically interrupted the introduction. And besides, why does this guy always seem to forget that Derek still can hear him perfectly fine when he is walking only a few feet in front of him?

"Yeah, I'm, it's – " And more is not about to come.

Seriously, what the hell is with that guy? A stuttering teenager doesn't belong with the FBI. Derek looks at Hotch next to him and points a hand at Reid. "What the hell, man?" he murmurs, because _he_ certainly doesn't want to be overheard by Gideon. "Are you for real? You gotta be kiddin' me. This kid, seriously?"

"Dr. Reid's exceptional abilities will make him a great asset to the team," Hotch says, and right now he sounds utterly and completely like Gideon.

"Abilities, what abilities? Staying awake until 11 pm without getting grounded by mommy and daddy?" What abilities could a skittish teen have to offer? But Derek's words are louder than he had meant them to be, and he can see Reid turning his head for the briefest instant and even then does Derek perceive that something happens in Reid's face that Derek can't pinpoint right away.

It vanishes too quickly.

"You will get along well," Gideon says absentmindedly and pats Reid's back, and somehow Derek doubts that. The kid flinches with the touch. This is going to be _so _great, Derek thinks, and he can't keep himself from rolling his eyes.

As they enter the conference room, Reid looks around nervously, and there is something else, something Derek can't name, something that makes his eyes even bigger and the whole idea of him being here even more ridiculous. It lasts only for a second, though, because he casts his eyes downwards as soon as he gets aware of his school boy behavior.

Gideon hands out the case files he was holding. Hotch and Derek grab one without thinking, a natural flow of movements. Reid's throat constricts before he reaches for one himself. His stool creaks loudly as he tries to quietly take a seat. Gideon shows no signs of impatience. Hotch and Derek share a glance that says it all.

While placing some pictures on the white board, Gideon starts the briefing unceremoniously. Maybe he took the newbie aside sometime previously to give him a small overview on how things work around here.

Judging by the way Reid flips through the file already, Gideon didn't.

So what's the deal? The victimology is fairly easy to decipher. Pretty brunettes, about 5'5'' to 5'8'', lean, fit, single (one of them divorced). The bodies were taken just out of town, each found on a separate glade six days after the women went missing, put to the ground almost gently, positioned as if they would only be taking a nap. Eyes and mouths covered with duct tape, long wavy hair cut off and carelessly thrown aside, tangled around poppy on every crime scene.

A waitress, a secretary, a student… for now they have nothing in common but appearance.

Morgan tries to concentrate on what Gideon says, but he catches himself watching Reid again and again, observing everything he does and judging every mistake he makes.

"Hey," he says at one point and puts a hand on top of the quickly turning pages. Reid's head jerks up, startled, and he stares at Derek with those goddamn wide eyes. "Listen to what Gideon says," Derek tells him. "You can study the file when we're on the jet. During the briefing you listen and get briefed."

"Yeah, sorry." He pulls his busy fingers into his lap, drops his gaze for a second and lifts it almost instantly again to meet first Gideon's expressionless face and then Hotch's even more expressionless face. "I'm sorry," he murmurs once more.

Well, that wasn't exactly the reaction Derek was aiming for, but if it gets the kid (and himself, for that matter) to concentrate, he won't be the one to complain.

Gideon continues the briefing and along the way Hotch and Derek ask a few questions and add their two cents. Reid took Derek's advise to heart and listens, not touching the file or even breathing too loud. Derek doesn't want to feel bad for being professional, but he kind of does, anyway. After all, it wasn't his intention to scare the kid off or something. But there is a row of dead women with their pictures pinned to the with board and they simply can't afford wrapping a wet behind the ears newbie in cotton candy.

"What do you think, Dr. Reid?" Gideon asks then and it takes the kid visibly off guard. He looks up and presses his lips together, flicking a gaze over to Hotch and Derek. Honestly, he is a bundle of confusing tension.

"Anything," Hotch joins in (Derek can almost feel how Hotch tries to be some kind of encouraging). "As I told you before, we're a team. We share our thoughts."

Reid looks at him for a long moment, assessing his words carefully. "The," he clears his throat, "the way the women were, the _victims_ were found?" He shoots another glance around. "It reminds me, actually, it reminds me of some part of the Greek mythology." He stops as if he expects to be interrupted or questioned or silenced. Nobody says anything, though, so Reid takes another breath, and all of a sudden Derek and Hotch and Gideon get to witness a three hour lecture, pressed into about five minutes. It is many, many words and tiny gestures and Derek's head is buzzing like a bee-hive with every syllable flowing past Reid's lips.

After it gets silent again, it feels like the whole room is trying to catch its breath and Derek's chest expands slowly while he is still trying to comprehend what he just heard. Until now, the only connection between the victims has been their appearance and personal circumstances. Now there is something else, and Derek doesn't know whether he is more amazed by the Unsub's potential level of total and complete creepiness or the fact that the kid sounded like a walking talking textbook.

Everyone, except Reid, is staring at the white board, busy updating what they knew with what they only just learned. If what the kid just said really turns out to be true – Derek refuses to fully accept it just now, but he has to acknowledge the possibility – then that was already a major step forward.

"Very good, Dr. Reid," Gideon says finally, breaking the silence, as if there is nothing more to say to that. But it seems to do the job for Reid, since he exhales deeply and relaxes visibly. "I believe you brought your Go Bag?"

"Ah, yes, it's in agent Hotchner's office," he says.

"Good."

"It's wheels up in twenty then," Hotch announces, and he and Gideon get up to gather their stuff. Derek needs a little more time to wrap his head around the fact that, obviously, the kid didn't just attend the briefing for some kind of insight on the job. Reid is actually meant to join them and participate in the investigation. "And Dr. Reid," Hotch adds, "this was an impressive input."

Gideon is out of the room already and Hotch is just about to follow after commenting on Reid's performance. Reid's face lights up, a smile spreading over his crinkled lips. "Thank you, agent Hotchner," he says. He seems to be so happy in that moment.

Hotch nods and leaves.

And then it is only Derek and Reid left in the round table room. And it is in that instant that Reid's nervousness grows back full force and his smile falters and disappears and the air around them is filled to the brim with awkwardness.

"Um, excuse me," Reid mumbles, a crooked grimace that faintly resembles his smile from before, as he attempts to pass Derek by.

"Hey, whoa whoa whoa," Derek says to stop him, and it feels oddly like calling back a dog, but Derek can't come up with much else. Reid turns around, the file clutched to his chest, guarded and careful and Derek doesn't know why. "How'd you do that?" he asks.

Reid shakes his head, indicating that he doesn't understand what Derek means.

"This little…," he tries, fishing for words. "I don't know, your little… textbook example."

"I… read a lot," he answers.

"You rea-, oh wow, okay." he doesn't know what to say to that. "And you're a doctor?" Because really, that kid?

"I, actually I hold three PhDs." Derek's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Reid blinks rapidly. "Um, in Mathematics and Chemistry and, um, and in Engineering as well."

Derek nods skeptically. "And as a sideline you… have just stored a huge amount of random facts about Greek mythology?" Reid doesn't answer, but Derek has a feeling the kid doesn't even have to. "How old are you again?"

"Twenty-one?" It sounds like a question and Reid notices it, too. "I turned twenty-one five months ago."

Lips pressed together, Derek searches for an appropriate reaction. He doesn't want to laugh, but he feels like somebody is trying to shit him and he doesn't know what else to do. "Are you some kind of genius or something?"

Reid's mouth opens and closes helplessly. "Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified," he answers, sounding like he recites an answer he already memorized a long time ago. "But I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and can read twenty thousand words per minute." They stare at each other for a second. "Yeah, so I guess I'm a genius."

"Right." Derek nods again and Reid nods as well, awkwardly. "An identic memory?" he inquires, because what is that supposed to be now?

"Oh, an _eidetic_ memory, that's, let's say, if you – "

"Dr. Reid?" Hotch calls and interrupts the upcoming explanation. He pokes his head in, standing in the door way. "Would you please get your Go Bag? We need to get going."

"Of course, yes, I'm coming." Reid turns around and closes the distance between himself and Hotch like a puppy. "I'm sorry, agent Morgan, please excuse me," he says to Derek before he leaves. Hotch stays for another second, looking after him, and follows. Derek thinks he would really, really like to know what Hotch is thinking right now.

He stares at the empty door way, breathes an irritated laugh and shakes his head. That kid. Wow.

* * *

But that kid turns out to be pretty helpful, Derek has to admit. Pretty damn helpful.

They learn many facts that aren't even slightly related to the case at hand or Greek mythology at all (and really, God, _how does he know that_?), but in the end they catch the Unsub who calls himself Morpheus – and this is at least partly thanks to Reid.

Between cuffing the Unsub and handing in his report, Derek wonders time and again how much longer it would have taken them to catch that guy, if it wasn't for Reid who knows an insane amount of mythological facts of any kind. The case wouldn't have taken the course it ultimately did.

And Reid would have every reason to get a big ego, to become somewhat conceited, to let the world know what he has achieved on the very first case he ever worked. He could walk around with his chest swelled and his head held high like a peacock. But he doesn't. And Derek has to admit that he is surprised by that. He remembers what he himself felt like after his first successful case. He felt like he finally reached his goal. A milestone. He felt like he finally found a place where he could do so much good, where he could prove to himself and the world that he is worth something. That he can change things.

And Reid… on the flight home he is kind of calm. Maybe even quiet. He sits across from Gideon and doesn't talk much. Derek and Hotch sit on the other table, engaged in low conversation.

It is like Derek can see a thought bubble above Gideon's head, reading 'Point proven.' – in a very subtle Gideon-ish way. For him, that much is clear, it was the right thing to get Reid to join the BAU. Derek can see that plain as day.

But as for Reid… well, it was quite a tough case for a newbie. Not that it wasn't tough for Derek himself as well. But it was probably the first time for the kid to see dead women. And you don't learn things like that in the academy. You get prepared in some way, they show and tell you what you have to be ready for. But it is something completely different to actually live through this yourself. And the kid said he was… how old again? How long could he have been at the academy, even?

It takes time to get used to it. Even though you don't ever get fully used to it, Derek thinks in a quiet moment. But you can adapt. You have to.

Back in Virginia, they part ways soon. Gideon sends Reid home, saying he did a good job, which he did, and that he will see him on Monday after a good night's sleep, which Derek doubts, and then Gideon retreats into his office.

For a change, Hotch is not about to do the same. He wants to go home to his wife and honestly, he deserves to. He took the newbie case pretty seriously, trying to treat Reid the way he is supposed to be treated (he left the academy, after all, he is an agent now, working for the FBI), while simultaneously trying not to give the kid too much trouble, too much of a hard time. Too much nightmare material, probably. In his own way, Hotch is surprisingly caring.

"What do you think about that?" he asks just as he is about to leave, stopping at Derek's desk in the bull pen on his way out.

"What d'you mean?" Derek asks, halting in grabbing some work-related things he is afraid he might need over the weekend.

"I'm talking…" He exhales slowly. "About Dr. Reid."

Derek represses a snarky laugh, so that it is nothing more than a hitch of his shoulders. "You want my opinion?" They look at each other and Derek smiles, and it tastes kind of bitter. "Man, this isn't going to work. The kid ain't up for that kinda thing, I mean, did you even look at him?" Because he is, after all, just a kid.

Hotch is silent for a long moment. "We'll see about that," he says then.

"Yeah, man," Derek agrees. "You'll see."

They all will, sooner or later.

* * *

Derek isn't all that surprised to see Reid walk into the bull pen on Monday (he is more surprised by the uninterrupted weekend). Derek isn't even surprised when he walks into the bull pen the week after, just to see Reid already sitting at his desk.

What does surprise him is that, after a whole month of several cases, interviews, interrogations, Unsubs, creeps, weirdos, fucking dead bodies – that after all that, Reid still comes to work every day, right on time.

Certain things change, though. Minor things, and if Derek wouldn't see him each and every day, he probably wouldn't even notice them. Like the shadows beneath his eyes that grow darker with every week that passes.

For all Derek knows, Gideon has some trouble with the higher authorities. Apparently, not all of them agree with his decision making regarding Reid and he has to justify several times why he decided to make Reid the newest member of the BAU – and the youngest agent to set foot in the FBI headquarters, ever. But Gideon insists that yes, it _was_ the right thing to do and not hiring someone like Reid would be a waste of so much potential.

So while Gideon tries to protect said potential from being taken away again, Reid himself has a hard time delivering everything that is required for working for the FBI. Like marksmanship. Like hand-to-hand combat. Like everything that isn't related to using his head.

The kid's eye-hand coordination is horrible. Truly. It isn't even clumsiness anymore. Derek was tossing something at him and the kid didn't catch it. This could be hilarious or even understandable, if they would have been standing each at one end of the room. The thing is, they weren't. They were standing, like, five feet apart with nothing but a desk between them and Reid was asking for something and Derek tossed it at him. And if fell to the ground. And Reid hit his head trying to pick it up.

This is funny, yeah.

This is funny until it isn't. This is all nothing but a harmless joke, until Reid fully joins the field and has to defend himself against an Unsub. If he can't do this, it won't be funny anymore and it won't be pretty and whenever Derek thinks about it, he agrees with all his heart with everyone who wants to see Reid gone. Because the kid isn't suited for that kind of profession.

"What he needs is time and practice," Hotch says at one point, when Derek came to check something concerning a previous case and by the way commented on Gideon seemingly not being too worried about Reid probably failing his gun qualification. "He is young, Morgan. He never held a gun before, things like that need time to get used to. He will learn to use it, all he needs is some more practice."

"He needs a hell of a lot more practice, if you guys want him to pass," Derek says, crossing his arms and resting the file against his shoulder.

"Don't be too hard on him," Hotch answers. "He tries really hard and – "

"Yeah, so what, let him try really hard," Derek interrupts. "That's nothing special, if you can't handle your gun when you need it, you sit your ass down and get that shit done." He doesn't want to glorify something that is a given for everyone working in law enforcement.

Hotch doesn't reply immediately. He inhales audibly, and somehow Derek gets the impression that this thing doesn't mean for Hotch what it means for Gideon. Hotch wants the kid to be able to stand his ground. He knows that it takes more time than the kid actually has, that it takes effort and that there is a realistic chance that Reid can't cut it. While Gideon is so sure that, eventually, everything will work out on its own.

"Maybe he needs a little help," Hotch suggests then and looks at Derek. "Maybe you could help him out."

"Me? No, not a chance." Derek almost laughs hearing this. "Sorry, man, really, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not gonna participate in turning this place into a play school."

Hotch sighs. "Morgan, listen – "

"No, Hotch, it's not about listening," Derek says. He turns halfway and starts reaching for the door. "I can understand why you and Gideon want that kid, but I don't like it and I'm _telling _you – " He pauses, shaking his head, searching for words to put it nicely but realizing he can't. "This is going to backfire."

Giving Hotch a moment to stop him from leaving, Derek waits at the door, slowly pushing down the handle. He nods slightly but Derek can't say whether he agrees or just contemplates his words. But before he can decide on that, Hotch goes back to the work waiting on his desk and dismisses Derek silently.

* * *

_Don't be too hard on him. _This is easier said than done.

Derek knows he is giving the kid sort of a hard time. He knows and he doesn't mean to, but sometimes he just can't help it. Reid being here is wrong on so many levels. The guy hugs his middle when he is uncomfortable. He avoids physical contact to the point where he doesn't even shake hands. And what Derek notices after three or four months of working together is that the kid scans every room he enters for Derek doesn't know what.

There is this one situation where Derek meets him accidentally in the break room. The kid fixes himself another cup of coffee, adds spoonful and spoonful of sugar to it and has his back towards the door. As Derek greets him, he almost jumps three feet in the air. And spills his coffee on top of that.

Derek decides not to comment on that, because the kid is flustered enough around him as it is. Not the cute kind of flustered like a pretty girl might be or a student meeting his mentor, but rather the kind of flustered a deer is when caught in the headlights of a speeding car. Like Derek is just about to rip off his head and play football with it, at all times.

"Everything alright?" Derek asks nevertheless.

"Uh-huh." He nods and hisses, because the coffee burnt his fingers, and for a moment that seems to be more important than Derek next to him. But that moment passes almost before Derek has thought this to its end, and Reid turns to him, eyes wider and more observing than usual. Really, Derek doesn't think he deserves this kind of look.

But maybe it is Derek's own fault that Reid is so hesitant around him. Can he really blame the kid for being ambitious and for the Bureau to be blinded by those _exceptional abilities_? After all, it isn't his fault that he actually got hired, right?

"You're way too jumpy, kid," Derek tries with a half shrug and extends his arm to reach for a mug of his own, stored away in the wall cupboard. Reid moves aside instantly, back almost touching the wall behind him. "Must be all the sugar you dump in your coffee every day."

"Yeah. But actually it's – " Reid moves his hands and Derek is surprised he even got an answer. Outside of cases, Reid mostly avoids him, but now he tells him that, "actually, this whole 'sugar leads to hyperactivity' thing is mostly a myth that probably developed in 1973. There was an allergist named Benjamin Feingold who published the so-called Feingold Diet. He advocated a diet free of salicylates, food colorings and artificial flavoring to prevent hyperactivity. He didn't outright say to avoid sugar specifically, but that's what many people assumed and what parents did to calm their children, but several studies indicate that there is no real relation between sugar and hyperactivity, so extensive consumption of sugar leads to diabetes rather than hyperactivity."

Derek pours his coffee and then just stares at him. Reid closes his mouth and holds his gaze with unblinking eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Okay," Derek says because he isn't sure what kind of answer is expected from him now.

"Yeah, this… sorry." He rubs his eyes in sudden embarrassment. "Sometimes I just… sorry."

"Nah, it's alright." To emphasize that it is really no big deal, his hand moves for a casual pat on the back or whatever he would reach first. But it never lands there, never makes that connection, because Reid is in an instant fully alerted again and avoids the touch. It isn't even that he avoids it by stepping aside again – he ducks under his hand and dodges it instinctively with his arm.

This is kind of stunning, and apparently Derek isn't the only one surprised. Big brown eyes stare at him. Then another mumbled "I'm sorry," and the kid leaves the room with his half empty mug and Derek stays behind with the growing awareness that all the avoiding and ignoring outside of cases could be because the kid is scared of Derek.

Derek stares speechlessly into his coffee.

Okay, so Derek knows he can come off as intimidating, and even more so if he wants to. He has to, sometimes. But he would have never expected the kid to actually be afraid of him. He is tempted to ask himself what he did to deserve that, but then again, he probably knows. He really wasn't that supportive and he didn't exactly hide that. But they are working in the same team, after all. What kind of team can they be, if one member is scared of the other?

* * *

Weeks pass and slowly agent Hotchner is Hotch more frequently. Agent Gideon remains agent Gideon and Derek is still ignored more often than not.

But Derek has decided that it can't go on forever like this. Even though he still thinks Reid being on the team is wrong and he will be more than glad to see him gone sometime soon in the future – as long as Reid is in fact on the team, he needs to be able to protect himself. Someone needs to have an eye on him. If something were to happen to that kid… Derek can't allow that.

And who knows, maybe in a few years, Reid will even make a decent agent.

So one evening, it simply feels like high time to change things around here. Just before clocking out, Derek walks up to Reid, gym bag dangling over his shoulders, and Reid lifts his face from a file with his charming deer caught in headlights look.

Derek has to give it to him, he tries. In the last couple of months since Reid got here, he probably read more reports than the BAU handed in over the whole last year. And the speed in which the kid turns page after page after page is baffling. At first, Derek thought he was playing – but he has come to realize that the kid's brain really is something else.

Nodding a greeting, Derek leans against Reid's desk, ignoring that the kid moves his chair automatically a little away.

"You know, I have this friend down in the shooting range," Derek states and Reid lids twitch questioningly. His hands lie flat on top of the file, the pointer of the right hand curled around a pen. "I heard from Hotch that you're kinda having trouble handling your gun – "

As soon as those words are said, Reid puts his arms around his middle and his face hardens, with cold eyes and thin lips.

"Kid, you need to watch your body language," Derek says, without even meaning to, and he could facepalm for that, because the moment he said this, it gets even worse. This is probably one of the worst forms of betrayal. "Look, anyway. Um, this friend of mine? I think he could give you a hand. Y'know, telling you what to keep in mind when changing your stance, how to really just hold your gun, basic things like that. I think it'd do you good. Just go there sometime, tell him I sent you down there and you should be set for your qualification."

The irritation from before is replaced by a quizzical look, a frown and lip biting.

"Kid, just give it a shot," Derek says. "What d'you have to lose?"

A corner of his mouth hitches as if Reid has a pretty clear picture of what he could lose. Only for a second, though, then the half smile disappears and curiosity returns. "Why would you want to help me?" he asks.

"Because you need to learn to watch your ass." They hold each other's gaze for another while. Then Derek pushes himself off of the desk and heads for the exit. "I'm out," he calls over his shoulder. "If you go there, ask for Cody. See you tomorrow."

Because Derek has realized that, at least for now, this is inevitable.

And the funny thing is, things sort of shift from there on. Little things. Derek isn't as often ignored anymore, once or twice he is still agent Morgan, but somehow he and Reid actually start working together. The kid proves to have quite a talent for geographical patterns and handwriting. And facts. Lots and lots of facts about everything and anything Derek could possibly could think of. Reid is like their personal encyclopedia.

Which comes in pretty handy, admittedly.

* * *

It is when they work a case in Arkansas that Derek worries, really _worries_ about Reid for the first time. They are chasing a sadist who is targeting young boys and as fate willed it Reid… kind of fits the victimology.

They all try not to let it shine through that they know. But it is slightly unusual, even for Reid, how much time he spends at the station working on a geographical profile with Gideon or watching Hotch coordinate the investigation or observing an interview from behind the one way mirror.

When they catch the Unsub (Paul Dool, 37, white, lower middle class despite an above average intelligence, just like the profile predicted), they still need a confession from him. If they don't get a confession, they have nothing to keep him and have to let him go. But this isn't what bugs Derek. Situations like that are tense, true. Still, they can handle it.

The aggravating part is, that, from the short way from the police car to the interrogation room, Dool comes across Reid, purely by accident, and the look Paul Dool darts at the kid in that single second gives Derek the chills.

Reid doesn't help when he offers some more assistance afterwards, which Derek very directly declines, telling him to "Back off!" on this.

"We need to handle this situation with caution," Hotch explains, shooting Derek a stern look. "As soon as he'd see you, Dool would start building his sadistic fantasies around you and we don't think you are up for this yet." He puts his words carefully. "If you had more experience on this, maybe we would consider using this to our advantage. But right now… " He shakes his head. "It would simply be too dangerous."

Thank you, Hotch.

Reid accepts it, even though being told that you, in the eyes of some people, come off as submissive enough for a sadist like Paul Dool to instantly get his rocks off only by looking at you, most likely doesn't feel nice. And Derek is oddly relieved to know that the kid won't be coming near that bastard in the interrogation room. In the end, it is Gideon who gets a confession out of that guy and they are good to go after two long, disgusting weeks.

Derek finds Reid in the room the station gave them to set up their things. The kid stares at the map they used to create the geographical profile and scrunches his nose in that kind of unique way of his. He tilts his head and somehow their eyes meet through the only halfway closed blinds. Reid turns with each of Derek's steps towards the door, until he reaches the handle. The moment Derek enters the room, Reid turns his back on him with a force that almost feels like a patch being ripped off.

"Hey," Derek says, closing the door. "Ready do get the hell outta here?"

"Sure," Reid answers quietly, yet he doesn't move one bit.

Hotch is busy talking to the media, Gideon is debriefing the local police and Derek is left helping the kid to clean up their mess. He scoops up the papers scattered across the table, and he needs several seconds to notice that Reid is not only still not moving but also still has his back on Derek, even though he already moved around enough for Reid not to be able to still face away from him, if he wouldn't have been indeed moving himself. His arms hang at his sides, hands clenched into fists.

"You alright?" Derek straightens his back because the kid, too, is standing very, very upright and Derek feels this is more appropriate for himself as well. The kid's knuckles turn white. "Hey, what is it?"

"Nothing," he answers, voice hushed. "I just need a moment."

"For what?" Derek asks. Instinctively, he takes a step closer and he can see how tense Reid's shoulders are. His fists start shaking and Derek comes closer and it gets even worse. "Hey," Derek says again, cautiously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to check… something," Reid answers, words trembling over his lips and Derek can almost sense his heart racing in his chest.

His first thought is that the kid is upset because his offer to help with Dool was refused. His second thought is that the kid is having a panic attack because he realizes that, just by seeing him in the hall for a split second, Dool already had his eye on him. Reid takes deep breaths that move his whole upper body and make even Derek feel dizzy.

"Reid." He puts a hand on the kid's shoulder. Reid's breath hitches and a jerk rips through his body, disappearing into tiny shudders. His eyes were screwed shut and now they are open and take Derek into focus with their usual openly innocent expression that Derek has seen directed at everything but him – until now. "What's wrong?"

He exhales and gives a tiny shake of his head. "Nothing." And then, for the first time since they started working together, he smiles at Derek. Insecure, awkward and crooked – but a smile nonetheless.

* * *

This instant sticks with Derek for a long time. He doesn't know what exactly happened there, but he catches himself more and more often how he watches Reid, making sure he is safe, making sure he isn't running off into danger.

It confuses Derek to no end and he fears he won't be able to concentrate on the job, because he seems too concerned about Reid's wellbeing, and it proofs once more that Derek has been right from the very start because a kid – doesn't – belong – in the field!

He is close to losing his head when they track down an Unsub in Oklahoma in the middle of the night. They need to find him on his property, a fortress of worthless junk, and it is equal parts scary and impressive what can be used to defend oneself, and whose idea was it to bring Reid on this, for crying out loud? How could that happen?

Pouring rain makes it hard to hear what is happening around them and Reid _needs_ to watch is surroundings and his ass but he doesn't and Derek shouts, "Get back!", even though it blows his cover. He lunges forward and prevents the kid from walking right into a trap, pushing his thin frame around the next corner and throws himself right after. Three shots miss him only by a few inches and Reid is trapped between his back and a container wall.

Derek sees Hotch only a few feet away, almost invisible behind the rusty shell of what used to be a sports car. A few signs are enough to transmit the plan that while Derek will go look for a way around to attack from the rear, Hotch will coordinate the diversion working in the front. Who will watch over the kid, flashes briefly through his mind and Derek could kick himself for that.

It proves once more, _once more_, that Reid doesn't belong in the field, he doesn't belong with the FBI and Derek isn't responsible for Reid's wellbeing but _someone has to make sure that he gets out of this alright!_

But that someone can't be Derek.

It is hard to focus on the task at hand, and Derek hates it. He won't have his professionalism challenged by some kid who wants to pretend he can play with the big boys. It wasn't Derek's decision and Reid isn't his responsibility, and if something happens to the kid – it's _their_ fault. Gideon's and Hotch's and everyone else's, whoever gave that kid a go. Derek doesn't want something to happen to the kid, but if it does happen, it will teach them all a lesson. And Derek hates it, he hates that they make him think like that.

In the end, nothing really happens to the kid, but he is quite shaken up afterwards, anyway.

A LEO gets his kneecap smashed, another one gets a bullet to the chest and Reid, standing close by, tries to stop the bleeding. He does an astonishingly good job with it until the medics take the local police officer away to get him to the next hospital. The blood on Reid's hands stays longer than should be possible, and even hours later Derek still sees it. Derek heard the shots but didn't see where they were going and when he came back to his team and saw the kid's bloody hands, his stomach dropped for a second.

Reid doesn't sleep that night. At least, that is what Derek assumes the next morning, judging by the dark circles beneath his eyes that never really disappear anymore. He isn't really sure whether he has ever seen the kid without them anymore, actually.

But that isn't Derek's problem anymore. If Reid can't handle what comes with the job, he has to quit. If Reid has to put himself in danger for the others to realize that letting him join the BAU was a mistake, then so be it. Derek won't be playing babysitter any longer.

* * *

From now on, Derek treats the kid like the agent he is supposed to be and if that doesn't work, then please, someone _has _to draw consequences already, for heaven's sake. Is that really too much to ask?

Unexpectedly, though, it turns out to be not half as bad. Since Derek tries not to give a damn about the kid failing or succeeding, teamwork between those two kind of… kind of just happens.

Derek wouldn't go as far as to say they are friends. Because they aren't. But he can easily acknowledge Reid's brainpower as something truly extraordinary. If he has ever met someone worth to be called a genius, it is that kid. Really, sometimes Derek thinks Reid knows close to everything. As long as it is facts, it seems.

He still needs to learn how to cope. How to put some distance between work-related things and himself.

Again, this is something that doesn't seem to bother Gideon too much and it makes it difficult for Derek to stick to his plan not to get involved more than necessary. If they need to fall flat on their faces, they need to fall flat on their faces. Still, there is this nagging feeling that, even if Gideon doesn't seem to think so, someone has to guide Reid through some shit until he can find the way on his own.

Right?

* * *

Over the course of Reid being on the team, it takes about nine assurances from Hotch and about two from Gideon to convince the kid that, "If you want to take a rest, you can stretch out on the couch in the back."

During the flight home from Nebraska, from working a case that required almost more than they all had to give, Reid actually takes the offer. It has been a hard case, but that's what you get when children are involved. Little girls with blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Little girls that were collected like dolls and dressed like dolls and treated like dolls, and the fact alone that every little girl made it back to their family has been a miracle in itself. They arrested the mentally disturbed woman responsible for all that, but the police had to shoot her son because he would rather try to blow up the entire house than to let go of the little dolls that were like his sisters. Jesus Christ.

Reid pointed out that it could be two Unsubs instead of one. He figured out the possible connection between them which turned out to be true, and all in all he was pretty damn amazing on that case. What he did was impressive, Derek can't deny that, especially for someone new on the job. As soon as they were onto two possible Unsubs, onto their possible dynamics, Derek can't remember seeing the kid take a break.

"Reid," Hotch says now and Derek pauses his music to listen. He can't help it. They all are exhausted. Gideon lifts his gaze from a book, watching over the rim of his glasses. Reid squints at Hotch with small eyes that seem to have difficulties staying open. "It was a long case and you did a very good job. If you want to rest for a bit, you can use the couch in the back."

Derek's lips form the last words silently together with Hotch.

"It will be two more hours before we land," Hotch continues. "And you look tired."

"No, I'm fine," Reid answers. He tucks a strand of stray hair behind his ear, his hair not being the normal correctness. "But – " He licks his lips. "But if it's okay with you…"

"Sure," Hotch says, maybe with a little too much enthusiasm "Please. Get some rest."

"Thanks." Reid tries a smile and gets up from his seat. He keeps his eyes on the floor until he reaches the couch in the back. As he sits down, he seems clueless about what to do next. After another moment, he takes off his shoes (and which twenty-year-old wears grandfather shoes like that?), puts his legs up and curls up into a ball after a second or two.

He is wearing mismatched socks. Derek noticed that a couple of times before, but he always thought it was accidental. Obviously, though, this happens frequently.

Reid's face loses the tense expression only partly. A slight frown remains, even when Derek thinks he really fell asleep, knees pulled up and arms crossed against his chest.

Derek leans back in his seat, closes his eyes and tries to get comfortable while his music continues to wash over him. He isn't really in the mood to talk now.

Yet when they land and get ready to depart and Reid is still sleeping on the couch, Hotch and Gideon leave it to Derek to wake the kid. A nod from Gideon is enough to convey that, and Derek represses a sigh, his chest sinking in. Looks like he is still a babysitter.

"Reid," Derek says, standing next to him. "Hey, kid," he says louder. The kid's breathing gets uneven in the slightest way, but at that point in time Derek doesn't have an eye for that, yet. He reaches out a hand to shake him awake, and in the instant that his hand touches the kid's arm, Reid jerks awake and his limbs fly apart. Derek's hand is slapped away that he hisses through his teeth and he almost gets kicked in the balls, if it wasn't for his instincts to act up.

Reid sits up straight in one swift movement and Derek holds onto the kid's arm to keep him from lashing out further.

"Whoa, c'mon," Derek says, coming just a little closer for the kid to recognize him. "It's me, okay?" But the kid doesn't look like that is much comfort for him. For another second or so, the puppy dog eyes are glazed over with a fading nightmare.

Then Reid releases a deep breath and Derek releases the kid's arm and Reid rubs his face with both hands.

"Everything okay?" Derek asks quietly. Gideon watches from the other end of the jet, but he doesn't need to know everything. He had more than enough opportunities. And they all have bad dreams from time to time. No big deal.

"Yeah," Reid breathes and nods under his hands. The one second where Derek thought that the kid looked even younger than usual in his sleep passes, and now there is something about him that makes him seem way too old. There is a whispered "Okay" as Derek tells him they are ready to leave, and he pushes his hair out of his face. Then he rubs the spot where their arms collided and looks up and says: "I'm sorry."

Derek shakes his head because there is nothing to be sorry for. "Get up," he says simply, because hell, Derek can't wait to get home.

* * *

It goes from there and before Derek knows it, having Reid around is something like a daily routine. When on a case, Reid sticks to Gideon or Hotch mostly, but more and more often, he accompanies Derek, too. Sometimes Derek thinks he is not exactly being friendly when that happens, but then again it isn't like they are doing this for fun.

It is one night around that time, when Reid obviously decides that he ignored whatever bothers him (and in retrospective, something surely does bother him) long enough.

They hang around in the bull pen, only the two of them still there, doing paper work, when it happens. They get ready to leave at about the same time, Reid fumbling with that satchel of his that he takes with him everywhere.

"Have a good one, kid," Derek says, mentally welcoming the weekend already, and heads for the exit.

"Age-… um, Morgan?" Reid calls. It still slips out from time to time. It could be cute, but Derek doesn't really like being called _agent_ from one of his own unit. "'m sorry, Morgan? Do… um, do you maybe have a minute? Maybe?"

"Sure." Derek is instantly back to awareness. A minute for what? Derek hasn't been expecting a heart-to-heart with the kid. For him, this is still Gideon's job, even though his performance is questionable. "What's up?"

"Ah, yeah." Reid frowns and blinks rapidly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm not really sure how to say this, but – " His lips twitch into a tiny, o-shaped form as he hesitates for a heartbeat. "Would I be right in assuming that you're dissatisfied with me being part of the team?"

The question hangs there for a few seconds. "Sorry?" Derek asks.

"Yeah, ah – "He blinks even more. "I've come to notice that you seem to be kind of… kind of unhappy working with me and I wanted to know why. Because if I did something to offend you, I really didn't mean it."

"You think you offended me?" Derek asks surprised. Even if the kid lacks some tact, he is probably one of the politest people Derek has met so far.

"I think you could be thinking that I offended you and I want to tell you that I really didn't mean to," Reid says. And after a moment he adds that, "I think that agent Gideon and Hotch would've told me, if there was something wrong with how I've been doing the job, so I figured your reserve towards me is because you don't like me personally, and then I wondered why that is and I've come to the conclusion that you must be thinking that I wanted to offended you with something I said or did, when in reality, that was never my intention."

Derek waits to see if the kid is finished. "How could you've possibly offended me?" he asks then.

"I don't know?" He lifts his gaze and meets Derek's eyes with uncertainty. "That's what I wanted to ask you. Because I promise you, I didn't mean to – "

"To offend me, I got that," Derek finishes. "And you didn't. It's just – "

"What?" It is only a little squeak, full of hope and doubt.

Derek shakes his head. He doesn't want to have that kind of talk.

"You know," Reid tries again, "the thing is, I won't quit unless they make me. And I know from agent Gideon that you've worked very hard to be where you are today as well – " Derek raises his eyebrows and moves his head the tiniest bit to the side. "I-I've heard that you went undercover before you came here. And now we're part of the same unit and I can't get rid of the feeling that you… I mean, there was a time when I thought you accepted me but now I kind of – "

"Reid." Derek wipes his forehead and leans against the nearest desk with a sigh. They stare at each other until Reid mirrors his position, hugging his middle and rubbing his right upper arm. There is still so much of a boy in him. Derek leans back a little. "How old are you?"

Self-consciousness creeps into his blank expression and makes him look defiant. "I turned twenty-two two days ago."

Twenty-two.

Oh boy. The kid turned _twenty-two_ not a week ago.

Derek feels slightly nauseous all of a sudden and inhales deeply. Twenty-two. His older sister Sarah turned thirty-three some time ago, she is almost thirty-four now, a tough woman, and Derek wouldn't want her to see half the shit Reid as already seen since he started working here, and he is only twenty-two.

"Um," the kid pipes up again, "I mean, I know that I can't possibly be on the same level as agent Gideon or Hotch, but if you have problems with me, I think we should try to find a solution – "

"Okay, stop," Derek says, raising a hand. Reid moves head back. "Stop. I don't have any problems with you. The only problem I have with you is your age."

Reid looks at him in confusion and Derek shakes his head again, because how is he supposed to explain that?

He leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs, interlacing his fingers. He and Reid aren't at eye level anymore, but Derek doesn't think it is necessary to hold his gaze for that.

"It's just that, when I think about what we've seen in the last couple months," then what? They are agents with the FBI, and Derek doesn't know how to put it. "Do you know where I was when I was twenty-two?" Derek asks and looks up at Reid. The kid shakes his head curtly. "Northwestern University. Enjoying a student's life. Working towards a degree. Getting down with the ladies. Living a normal life. You know, there's a difference between being told what people can do to each other and actually see the worst of people yourself. And then there's you, a genius fresh out of the academy, and you're not even twenty-five."

Reid gnaws at the inside of his lower lip and his frowns deepens.

"You're too young," Derek clarifies what he has been trying to say. "It's true, in my opinion you shouldn't be here, and if I had been the one to decide, I would've told you to get the hell out until you grow a beard. _But_," he drawls, "it wasn't my decision and apparently, I'm the only one who thinks like that anyway, so who cares, right? I'd still kick you out, if I could, but that doesn't have anything to you with me thinking you're a bad agent or you're not doing your job right. Or being offended by you. Just, you're _too_ young. You're too young."

Reid contemplates this and nods. "So it's not that you think it's unfair that I'm here and I only made it because Gideon gives undue preference to me because I kiss ass?"

"What, no." Derek snorts. "I know you're worth your salt. It's just that I don't think this is the right way for someone like you to see the world."

The kid doesn't question the _someone like you_ and Derek doesn't have to think about what he meant by that now. There is a tiny smile playing around his lips. "But you're here, too. You see the world from the same point of view."

"Yeah, but that's different," Derek answers and straightens his back again. "I'm older. And I know that the world can be a shitty place sometimes. I want to make that better."

"Me, too," Reid says. "And I think I can do that, I think I can help. I can be useful here."

True, he can be. He is. He has been lots of times already. That doesn't change the fact, though, that he is only a kid who sometimes seems even younger than he actually is.

"The thing is," Reid continues, "Unless they tell me to leave, I won't go, so I was thinking, if you have any issue with me – "

"I don't have _issues_ with you," Derek says and this time it sounds more convincing. Reid's eyes shine with that honesty and openness again and Derek realizes just how used he is to that look already as he fails to recall what he looked like without it. What could get someone like that to jeopardize that?

"I just want this to work," the kid admits quietly.

"Yeah." So, Derek might have been a little unfair towards the kid, but he tells himself he only meant well. And, "I'm…" He clicks his tongue. "I'm sorry if you felt like getting a raw deal at some point."

"No, it's fine," Reid counters immediately. "I know I'm not the same as agent Gideon or Hotch, I don't expect you to treat me like them. I just wanted to clear things up, I guess."

"Feel like you did?" Derek asks, because he can talk all he wants – if the kid doesn't believe him, it would be pointless.

The kid nods. "Yeah." Tucking an invisible strand of hair behind his ear.

"Good." Derek looks around in the empty bull pen. "Anything else?"

"Uh, no. Agent Gideon is waiting for me me in his office and…" He doesn't continue, pulling his lips into a thin smile.

"Then you go talk to Gideon and I'll get out of here." Derek grabs his bag, throws it over his shoulder and bids his goodbye with a wink.

"So," Reid call after the first few steps and Derek turns halfway around again to find the kid close behind. "Everything is okay now? Between you and me?"

"Course, we're cool." Derek raises his free hand and Reid's lids twitch and Derek can see he fights not to turn his head away, but it doesn't stop Derek from ruffling his perfect longer-than-average-bureau-haircut. "Don't worry that big brain o' yours too much, Pretty Boy."

Reid blinks in confusion and pulls an irritated face but Derek doesn't think much of it. The kid had worse from him already. With another goodbye on his lips, Derek turns to leave again, and Reid stays behind to meet Gideon. Maybe the kid shout start thinking about quitting the last _agent_ there as well.

Because it looks like he is staying, until further notice. And it looks like Derek is in for another round of babysitting. Even though it is probably less babysitting and more taking Reid under his wing and finally getting down on teaching him the ropes.

After all, someone has to keep an eye on that kid.

O~O

* * *

That was kinda long, wasn't it? Was it too long? Maybe I didn't get the concept of five times/one time right.

What do you say in general? Somehow, I could never really picture them getting along right from the start, considering that Reid had issues and Morgan had issues and everything. Even so I've as well read fics where it was different and where they had an instant sympathy for each other, and some of them were really, really good.

Still, my head canon was a little different. And this is the result. Again, I don't normally do this with unfinished stories. But I read somewhere that _sharing is caring_ and I wanted to share my imagination with you.

Show that you care, too, and share your thoughts with me.

I hope to see you soon!

Bluey


	2. Ahead Of Time

Hello, boys and girls, ladies and gents, doves and darlings – I'm back.

Took me some time, I know, but as you will see, it wasn't for nothing. You have quite a few words waiting for you down there, after my little blah blah.

So, I had some problems with this chapter. I didn't… didn't really know what to do with it. I made a plan about what I had to include in this time frame, and it didn't look like much in the beginning. I actually even worried I might have to deliver a rather short chapter this time, which would have been okay, too, but… oh, you know.

And then, suddenly, it became longer and longer and I don't even know where all that came from. It wasn't my intention to let it go so out of hand, because I think it might actually be _too _long now. I looked it over again and again to see where I could shorten it, but I feel like most of those scenes are kind of important. And if I would take them out now and use them later, they wouldn't mean the same anymore. But then I was thinking, you're reading this because you want to, so it might be okay, and if it's not: I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened here.

I hope you can enjoy this overgrown chapter. Read it in pieces or in one go, that's totally up to you. Just think of it, like, I really tried my best for you here.

Thank you all for your lovely reviews for the first chapter, they were all amazing and really made my day!

* * *

O~O

**II. Ahead of time.**

Reid loses his deer-in-the-headlights look. Mostly. At least when he is around Derek, Hotch and Gideon. He still is jumpy, though.

But it isn't like the kid is anxious or something – upon closer inspection, he isn't even an anxious person to begin with. Careful, yes, very much at times, but not anxious. In fact, he has a pretty peculiar kind of reckless bravery surrounding him. He reacts badly to be taken off guard. If he is approached without noticing it, he still jumps. If he is touched unexpectedly, he still flinches. If someone offers him a hand, he still doesn't shake it.

The bravery, though… Derek notices it more and more often. It is subtle, simple in a way, and even stubborn sometimes.

* * *

The fun starts when, one day, Penelope Garcia joins the BAU. Partly, at least. Derek isn't sure if he got that right – he heard stuff about how she doesn't just support them but other units as well. He isn't sure if he got that right, and if he got that right, he isn't sure how that is supposed to work.

The introduction is short to practically non-existent. They rush through the bull pen, and Hotch tells Derek and Reid that the unit chiefs (or, in Hotch's case, the second in command, since Gideon holds a lecture somewhere in Ohio or Iowa or wherever) got informed that there is a technical analyst now, working with them to improve the outcome of every team.

He gets a glimpse in that rush of said technical analyst, very blonde hair and heavy lipstick and a dotted skirt. Not really the kind of girl he would go after, Derek thinks, and then they are off to another case. Without Gideon, which is a first for the kid, and it makes him so, so nervous. Derek has to admit, he is almost… offended by it. By this underlying vibe that they don't function as well without Gideon as they do with him.

Derek doesn't need Gideon to work properly, thank you very much.

But Reid's nervousness does affect him, unfortunately. Derek can't fight that, and it makes the case at hand even worse. They can work from Virginia this time. They are looking for a guy who is called the _The Blue Ridge Strangler_ in the press.

Cases like that are both kind of good and kind of shit. Good because they don't waste time getting there. They pretty much just have to turn around, and they (or at least some) know the area. Not to mention Reid here who only has to take one look, _one single look_, at any map to know everything there is to know about the environment. And this is amazing. Scary and freaky and amazing.

The shitty part about working a case almost in your back yard is just that – it takes place almost in your back yard. Even if it doesn't. You can hear it, how it scratches at your door. Because one fact about working all over the US is that the worst kind of people can be found everywhere. But most of the time you have to go some distance to get there. In cases like this, though, Derek has to face the ugly truth that there is no real safe haven. Not really. The worst kind of people can truly be found everywhere. Even in your back yard.

This, combined with Reid's tension because of an absent Gideon, is a good way to push Derek almost over the edge in no time.

"C'mon now, Reid," he demands, standing behind him and putting one hand on the desk and the other one on the backrest of Reid's chair to look over his shoulder. The kid leans a little forward, away from him. "Are you a genius or are you not?"

"I'm trying," he says, immersed in scrolling through whatever he is looking at on the screen. The way he types, though. God. He types with his pointers. Derek has never seen somebody doing that for real.

He has half in mind to push Reid's chair away and do the typing himself.

But Reid is the reader, it is almost in his name (he already got a lecture about that, words that sound the same but don't look the same and don't mean the same, and Reid told him what that's called, because he knows that just like he knows everything, but Derek can't remember) and so Derek doesn't push him away and waits impatiently.

The perfect time for Hotch to join them. "What've you got?" he asks and looks at Reid, walking up to them in quick strides. Being the acting unit chief, even if only by proxy, suits him.

"I'm… onto something, I think," the kid mumbles.

"Onto what?" Derek lets Hotch take his place behind the kid, where he mimics Derek's former position, and Reid shifts to the other side, almost unnoticed. "Reid, onto what?" The kid pulls his lips into his mouth, squinting his eyes, and Derek half expects steam coming out of his ears the next second. "Reid."

"There!"

His whole face transforms at that exclamation, with eyes going huge again and his mouth open, and Derek is at his side in an instant. Reid doesn't have room to pull away, neither from Derek nor from Hotch, but in that moment, this isn't really important.

Slowly, they create a profile, realizing that the Unsub is that kind of guy who needs to be in control, who needs to know exactly what is going on in the investigation and therefore probably even offered his help when he could.

Hotch's eyes are fixed to the screen, checking for any missed details, and Reid flicks him a gaze, checking whether or not it would be okay to go on. Derek feels like they are missing something, still, and as close as he is to the edge already, that just might tip him over. He interacts with people, not with computers.

But he remembers he doesn't have to, because Hotch himself informed them that there is someone there now, just for stuff like that. And the best thing is, she passes by right in that moment.

"Ey," he says, "what's that new tech girl's name?"

"Uh." Reid blinks, ripped from his line of thought. Hotch isn't even listening. Cases in your very own territory really are the worst. "Gomez, I think."

Of course the new tech girl's name isn't Gomez, but Derek doesn't know better and almost makes as ass of himself trying to get her attention. She doesn't react to him calling her Gomez, so he tries again calling "hey Baby Girl" without thinking, and that _Baby Girl_ thing could have easily gone wrong, but it doesn't.

"I've been called worse," she says with a smile that quickly turns into a cheeky grin. "What can I help you with?"

Derek blinks because something about that woman, that situation, that comment has thrown him slightly off balance. "Uh, Reid!" he calls over his shoulder. "Come over here." Because the kid can coordinate this better than Derek. Derek isn't made for sitting at a desk and going through filed facts.

Reid gets up and hits his knee in the process. There is a tiny hiss from his side and Derek cocks an eyebrow towards the new tech girl whose name isn't Gomez. She smiles at the kid and the kid shoots a sideway glance at Derek, eyes bigger than usual and lips crookedly pressed together.

"Reid," Derek says, trying not to sound too stupid doing this, "this is…" And he notices he doesn't have a name for the introduction.

"Technical analyst Garcia, Penelope Garcia," she says, shifting the stack of files and the coffee she holds to offer her hand to the kid. What a great first impression this is going to be.

"Garcia, right, hi. Uh, and this here would be Spencer Reid," Derek closes and hopes for an instant, the briefest instant, really, that Reid will just do what is normal in that situation and go for the offered handshake. He should have known better.

The kid only waves again (Derek doesn't remember to have seen him actually shake hands ever), but Garcia reacts pretty well, Derek admits. She changes the offered hand into a wave of her own and a slight giggle bubbles in the back of her throat. There is an instant fondness radiating off of her that Derek is truly impressed with.

"Oh wow," she exhales with a sudden inspiration. "I mean, you're _the _Dr. Spencer Reid, right? You're way younger than I imagined."

His eyebrows crawls up his forehead, and his smile that came with her wave disappears into a straight line again. He shoots Derek another glance, clearly unsure as to what to do now.

"We could use your help," Derek says. "Concerning a case."

"Well, consider yourselves lucky then," she says, "that's exactly what I'm here for." Derek smiles and feels an immediate sympathy connecting him with her. The short feeling of unexpected uncertainty in that one first moment has vanished and the new tech girl Penelope Garcia works her way into the team at the speed of light.

* * *

Still, Derek tries not to think too much of if. Of Garcia saying so easily that she has been called worse. Of Reid shying away from physical contact. Of that one incident where Derek moved his hand towards the kid to get him to shut up for a second and Reid flinching like he expected a blow.

He tries. But he doesn't always succeed.

He hears from Garcia that the kid still visits the academy, every now and then. Only when they are here and not working a case, only when there isn't anything more important waiting to be done, which is probably why Derek hasn't noticed it before. Really, though, how could he not notice that before?

"How do _you _know that?" he asks, hoping he doesn't sound too surprised so it doesn't show how much he didn't expect the kid to confide in Garcia. It is strange that he chose her over him, considering the kid knows Derek much longer and all.

"I did my research," she simply states, clicking her dark blue nails against the mug she is holding. It is a slow office day and they have some coffee together in the break room by chance.

Garcia is a blurry spot of blonde and blue and pink and points and stripes and a red bow in her hair, and her style is… perky, to put it nicely. And so not what the bureau is used to.

"Your research, what you mean?" he asks, raising his own mug to his lips.

"Well." She takes a sip, too, stealing some time. Derek waits patiently. Tricks like that don't work with him. "I wanted to know what kind of people I work with," she says then, sounding too casual for her own good.

Derek tilts his head a little as the penny drops. "You hacked his personal file?" She purses her lips but it could in no way pass as even slightly guilty. "You know, I could be wrong, but I don't believe that's what you're here for, Garcia."

"But that's how I got here in the first place, beautiful," she says and pats his arm. "That's our little secret from now on, between you and me. By the way, I really like the sound of that, you and me and the break room…"She bats her lashes at him suggestively, and there is just something about her that takes away the pressure of comments like that and he chuckles at her words. "See, now that's how you're supposed to look."

They are about to part ways when Derek wonders about why Garcia did a check on Reid, despite that fact that Reid didn't really warm up to her, yet.

"Wait a minute," he says and stops in his tracks. "Who else did you check upon?"

"Oh, I don't know," she says innocently, turning mid-step without halting. "Why don't you come over, later, to my office, and see for yourself, Mr. bomb squad?"

Her giggle rings in his ears for a long time, barely overlapping the faint feeling of sickness in the pit of his stomach. He can't explain where it comes from, even though he knows the answer already. He doesn't come over to her office that day. He doesn't need to see for himself. He knows.

* * *

He diverts himself with talking to Hotch about Reid still visiting the academy from time to time. Hotch doesn't seem to think any of it (of Derek knowing things like this, that is) and he doesn't seem to be surprised, either.

"He is doing it of his own accord," Hotch says, putting away a folder that looks like it could easily be used for a light workout. They have to stay fit, after all. "He's realized that… there's room for improvement, in some areas, for him."

Some way to put it. Derek presses the tip of his tongue against his lower molars and gives a short nod. "So why… did I not know about that?" he asks and feels stupid almost immediately after noticing how incredulous he sounds.

Hotch, too, notices it and stops sorting through the shelf in front of him. "Why would he need to inform you about that?" he asks. He doesn't sound condescending or arrogant or anything and that only makes it worse, somehow.

Derek doesn't answer, not really, and leaves soon after, and even long after clocking out, he still feels kind of stupid for asking, for even wondering why Reid didn't tell him. This isn't his business.

* * *

In retrospective Derek wishes Gideon wouldn't have send him to get the kid. In retrospective Derek is glad he did. It is a very confusing situation for him.

He finds the kid not long after entering the building. He exits the elevator just in time to see Reid disappear around a corner, providing a by now familiar picture of holding almost too much files in both his arms. For the lightweight he is, this is astounding.

Derek is about to call out for him when he notices someone else is already approaching the kid.

"Look who's gracing us with his presence," Derek hears someone cheer, and the next moment, Reid is surrounded by a group of three cadets. "It's Gideon's lapdog."

They all are older than the kid, all visibly stronger, and without being outright made to, Reid turns his back towards the wall before the greeting has ended. Clever. Protecting his blind side, so they can't sneak up from behind. Derek's first and strongest impulse is to barge in, because those three together with Reid practically scream trouble. But he fears it won't do the kid much good in the long run – and it isn't like something already happened, right?

"Who woulda thought," another one snarls now. "That you're still hanging around the mop." Reid looks at him strangely expressionless. Derek didn't know he could make a face like that. He looks almost bored.

"How's life at the BAU treating you, smartass?" the first one asks. "Still fooling everyone that you can handle it?"

Oh, wow. Just like that, Derek is faced with the same thought he has had for a very long time, but coming from a guy like that makes it seem wrong, and Derek really hopes, even though he is already doubting it, that the kid never thought he meant it the way those guys do. He only wanted the kid to return onto safe ground. Those guys want him to fail just to watch him fail, nothing more than that.

"I'm doing well, thank you," Reid answers politely.

"Doing well my ass," the third one scoffs. "What are you even needed for, other than your brains?"

"I bet you're doing well," the second one replies. "Gideon must love having you like his balls every day. Bet you're doing one hell of a job."

Reid holds his gaze without batting an eye, still that strange kind of boredom on his face. Derek thinks this might not be the first time the kid hears stuff like that, and suddenly, he feels like such an asshole.

"It's not like you got much to offer 'sides your brain, isn't it?" the first guy joins in again. "Huh, cocksucker? Without your brains, what would you be? Huh? You're nothing but brain cells. You'd be less than nothing without 'em."

"See, you're right," Reid says, sounding very much matter-of-factly and not like being cornered by three guys obviously trying to pick a fight. "I have to take care of my brain, otherwise I would end up being someone like you. Sometimes it's hard but overall I think, with things being the way they are, I got the better end of the deal."

Oh wow, God. _Reid._ You don't… say things like that to guys like that! Didn't you learn anything over the past year or what it was? God!

Derek is internally screaming, not knowing whether to facepalm or to shake the kid, because really, what would he do without Derek being there to prevent anything from getting out of hand?

The guys aren't too happy with Reid's comeback, either. In a matter of seconds, the first guy puts his hand on top of Reid's files and pushes down, and Reid's arms give in without resistance and paper splatters all over the floor.

"You think you're so smart, huh?" he hisses. "You think you're so special. But you're not. Gideon can't protect you everywhere. And he won't, either. As soon as they no longer need you anymore, as soon as you're no longer useful to 'em, they'll drop you like a fucking hot stone. In reality, you're nothing to them, and _how could you_?" he suddenly yells. "You're a _disgrace_ to the _whole FBI _and _nobody gives a shit _about you besides your brains, and even to your precious Gideon you're nothing more than a freak – "

Derek pushes around the corner he has been hiding behind. "Since when are cadets allowed to talk like that to agents with the FBI?" he asks loudly and closes the gap between himself and the unlikely group. It effectively shuts the guy up and the other two even take half a step back, preparing to run for whatever reason. Derek likes that better. "To people in general," he adds, trying not to get too close to Reid. "This isn't what the FBI stands for."

The guy flicks a gaze over to Reid and barely represses the urge to snarl. "We were… just… having a friendly discussion."

"Right," Derek says slowly. They both look down on the splattered files for a second. The kid doesn't say anything, but Derek feels it would be a mistake to make him talk now. "What's your name?" he asks the guy.

"Wh-, excuse me?" He sounds careful and Derek thinks this is easily the form of cowardice he hates the most.

"Your name, cadet," Derek repeats coldly. "Since you're so concerned about the well-being of the BAU and its members and pointed out its weaknesses, I figured you might want to tell agent Gideon in person, yourself. I'm sure he'll know how to appreciate it."

They don't say anything to that. One of them mutters something that could be "fucking moron" or something like that, but Derek has to admit, he doesn't care in the least. "Isn't there somewhere you ought to be right now?" Derek asks and the three get lost almost before he uttered the last word.

The kid still stands like a statue, as if he froze the moment cadet one made him drop the files. He doesn't look scared – in fact, he didn't let one single emotion flicker across his face since the three cornered him.

"You just… had to do that, right?" Reid asks then after a moment, still holding himself upright just like he did before, without even turning his head towards Derek. "You just had to get involved."

"Why yes, kid, as a matter of fact I had to," Derek answers, annoyed by something about that attitude, that sudden anger directed at him. "No need to thank me, been a pleasure."

"I didn't ask you to come to my rescue," the kid says, a tone swinging in his words that Derek has never heard of him before. Still not looking at him, Reid kneels down to pick up the mess. "I was having the situation under control."

"Were you," Derek says disbelievingly. "Would hate to see it out of control, then." He crouches next to the kid to pick up some papers himself, but Reid snatches them away before he can.

"I knew what I was doing," he insists, stubbornly looking down while cleaning up. "I know how to handle those situations. I've never needed someone to fight my fights for me, it's not like I need that now."

His hands work their way quickly through the mess and Derek is left to stare at him and wonder about things he never wanted to contemplate on a too personal level. "You telling me this happened before?" A stupid question, really, but Derek can't help it.

There is a tiny sigh of annoyance on Reid's side. "You've probably never experienced those conflicts from this perspective," he attempts an answer. "But let me assure you, things like that need buildup before they escalate, just like everything else."

It sounds like Reid can offer a whole new kind of expertise.

"Can you stop being pissed at me?" Derek asks. He takes the file Reid aims for and holds it out of reach to get the kid to look at him. It works, kind of, but there is so much annoyance engraved in his features that Derek almost feels guilty. "This isn't about me here, okay?"

"Exactly, this isn't about you and I'd appreciate it, if you could keep it that way." He jerks forward and takes the file from Derek, without even touching him in the process, pushes his hair out of his face and gets up, the files clutched to his chest again.

Derek stays behind, still on the ground, and needs a moment too long to remember why he even came here. "Reid," he calls after him and follows. "Kid, come on, why're you running away from me?"

"I'm _not_ running away," Reid hisses angrily.

He is, though, he is running away, Derek just isn't sure from what. His whole body language screams agitated. "What are you going to do about it?" Derek asks. "About them?"

"Nothing." That sounds very simple and very final. Derek is about to ask him what happened to his sanity (because as much as Reid seems to doubt it, Derek is familiar with bullies in one way or the other as well, and he knows how those things work), as the kid stops in front of the elevator and turns to face him. "What are you even doing here?" he asks.

Since the kid's hands are full, Derek reaches past him to hit the call button of the elevator. "Gideon told me to help you with those."

He means the files, but Reid's face falls in less than a second and it is obvious that he interprets it as something entirely else. "He knows?" It is nothing but a gush of hot air accompanying his falling features.

Derek looks at him questioningly and Reid shoots a glance around, almost licking his lips but stopping midway.

"Listen," he whispers urgently. "I know those guys, okay? I had, when I started at the academy, I had classes with them, they're harmless. They like to talk big but they have nothing to support it." The grip around the files tightens in the slightest way, as if he needs to unconsciously reassure himself.

Body language, Derek thinks, you need to watch your body language, I told you that before already.

"Do you really think they'd actually pass the final psychological evaluations?" he continues, still whispering. "They show heavy tendencies of narcissism, as well as severe inferiority complexes and malevolence, compensated by arrogance and a lack of respect, they will get themselves kicked faster than anyone else could."

It seems the kid has put quite some thought into it. The elevator arrives and Derek's first impulse is to disagree with whatever Reid just said, but maybe it isn't all that wrong on second thought. It might really be faster and less complicated to let those guys take care of their leaving themselves by failing evaluations, rather than instituting proceedings against them.

"And until then you just endure it and let yourself be bullied?"

His face morphs again, and this time, a familiar stubbornness takes place there. "I am _not _being bullied," he says. "This is nothing."

In a flash of sudden temper, Derek puts his own hand on top of the files, just like one of the cadet did, and pushes down. "Tell me how this is nothing," he demands and Reid glares at him but doesn't give in. Derek has no idea where this is coming from, why it is directed at him. He lowers his arm. "Y'know, you should've told us," he says. Reid could have come to him, despite their rocky start.

The kid looks at him and adds two and two together. Sometimes, Derek thinks that, if he just got close enough, he could see tiny gear wheels in his eyes, ever turning because the kid never stops thinking.

"You didn't know?" he asks. "I thought…"

"How could we know?" Derek asks in return. It is said jokingly but he feels kind of bad nonetheless, not for saying it but because it is true. If it wasn't for Derek to be in the right spot at the right time and for a misunderstanding like that, perhaps he would have never known.

He realized in that moment, trapped with Reid inside that small metal box, how little he really knows about the kid, despite the fact that Reid has a habit of talking and talking and talking about everything and anything, at times to the point where Derek fears the kid might die from the lack of oxygen. He doesn't really know anything about Reid, after over a year of working with him as a profiler, and it makes him feel pretty damn ignorant.

"Don't tell them," the kid says now. "Don't tell Hotch or Gideon, this… it's my business and I can handle it, I don't need them watching over me." His mouth moves silently as he searches for more words to put his point across, but in the end, it all comes down to: "Don't tell them. Please."

As if Hotch and Gideon knowing that some assholes think they can pick on him is the worst that could ever happen to the kid.

"I won't," Derek says after a moment and Reid nods, not satisfied but acknowledging.

And Derek thinks he really won't tell the others, for now. But he will keep a closer eye on the kid for the time being. Even though Reid might not like that resolution, if he knew.

* * *

Soon after Garcia kind of joins the team as their tech girl, they get a media liaison as well. And oh boy, what an addition to the team that is.

It happens first thing in the morning, they don't even have enough time to fix themselves a cup of coffee. Reid must have arrived just before Derek, still taking off his pullover and straightening his tie and fixing his hair absentmindedly and getting stuff from his satchel as Derek makes it to his desk.

"Had a good weekend?" Derek asks as the kid represses a yawn and rubs his eyes. Derek laughs at that, because he can't really imagine the kid hitting the clubs until morning light breaks through, but it is better than thinking about what else might keep him awake.

There is the already familiar sound of very colorful heels clicking across the floor. They look up to see Garcia following Hotch on the upper landing and down the stairs, clapping her hands and grinning from ear to ear.

Even Hotch can't fight the tiny smile at that.

"This is so exciting, sir," she squeals and Reid bites his lips, looking at Derek with a frown. Derek grins, because the kid and Garcia are always fun to watch together.

"Morgan, Reid," Hotch calls from the stairs. "You're already here, good. Gideon is waiting for us in the conference room." And off he is to lead the way.

This doesn't sound like a new case is waiting for them, and Garcia's excitement should be proof for that, too. That doesn't seem to help with Reid, though, who is following Hotch obediently but carefully.

"Good morning there, brainy baby," Garcia calls before the kid is out of earshot. He turns around mid-step, and after realizing that she actually truly meant him, he waves and grants her a thin-lipped smile and a hoarse "Morning."

Derek and Garcia laugh as he turns again and leaves, and her breath hitches as if she is that close to cooing: "He's so cute, oh my gosh."

But she turns to Derek instead, stroking his arm, saying: "And good morning to you, too, you gorgeous hunk of steaming perfection."

"Good morning to you, too, Baby Girl," he says, failing in keeping a straight face. But one of the many good parts about Garcia so far is that it feels like he doesn't have to.

They enter the conference room together with Reid, giving him a little push to go inside. In front of the round table, Hotch and Gideon and a woman are already waiting, and Garcia squeals again as she eyes the woman. "I knew it would be you!" she exclaims and pushes past Reid to get closer. "I knew it. Oh, this is going to be awesome."

"Ah… thank you?" The woman smiles but she clearly doesn't know how to react.

"Garcia," Hotch says quietly. "Calm down. One step at a time." She nods and moves her hand, zipping her mouth shut.

"Everyone," Gideon announces, "I'd like you to meet special agent Jennifer Jareau. She'll take the place of the media liaison. She'll handle TV, radio, newspaper, whatever might come as public interest, so please, everyone, coordinate those actions with her now. Might be something new, but in the long run, we'll all gain from it."

Then there are handshakes all around. Meet Gideon, unit chief (again). Meet Hotch, second in command ("Aaron Hotchner, welcome to the BAU. It's good to have you here with us."). Meet Garcia, technical analyst ("Let me guess, you're a JJ. I'm PG. We'll kick those bad guys' asses.").

Meet Derek Morgan. "You were in agent Simons' self-defense class, right?"

"Exactly, yeah." Her smile fits somewhere between friendly, polite and professional.

"I've heard you got a mean left hook," he says.

"You've never heard about my right hook, then," she jokes, but judging by the firm grip of her hand, her right hook isn't so bad, either.

And lastly, to make it complete, meet Reid. Jennifer smiles at him and Derek thinks she doesn't even notice how it is way more openly than it was directed at him. She offers her hand like everyone else and Reid swallows and waves that unusual little wave of his, still a massive gap between the two of them.

"He doesn't… he doesn't shake hands," Derek says to her. Probably time to accept that the kid just doesn't do it.

Jennifer tries hard not to let it show how strange she thinks that is. It isn't only strange for her, though, and she tries a little too hard, because Reid's lips get thin and his gaze wanders from one to the other unsteadily and a flush creeps up his neck, tinting his skin a pink shade.

"I'm… my name's Spencer. Spencer. Spencer Reid," he says, rubbing his fingertips against each other.

"Dr. Reid," Gideon corrects from behind Jennifer, but he doesn't even grant them enough attention to look at them, already busy with something else.

The flush has reached his cheeks and his eyebrows twitch in embarrassment. But Jennifer turns the situation around, smiling a whole new smile, saying: "You're Dr. Reid? My God, I've heard… so much about you, so much. It's such a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

Derek doesn't know whether she says it just for the sake of saying something or because she actually means it. Reid obviously isn't sure, either, but the fact alone that she said it has to be enough for now.

* * *

Working with JJ isn't complicated. Derek doesn't really know what it is that she does, at least not everything, but it makes things easier and more focused. She is now the one to present most cases and they can dive right in, without having a part of their mind occupied with how to handle the media – this is now JJ's job. Sometimes, it has to be that easy.

But Derek thinks he has never seen anyone Reid's age being so awkward around women. It is pretty bad with Garcia already, but she has a way of dealing with it that leaves the kid no chance but to get along with her. She isn't subtle enough to call it sneaking into one's heart, because it is obvious that she will win it sooner or later. And somehow she always manages to distract Reid from being uncomfortable around her.

It is even worse with JJ (yeah, _JJ_ established itself pretty fast), and it stays worse for far longer than it does with Garcia.

The kid is so flustered around her – it is funny the first two or three weeks and it isn't even _that_ bad when they are on a case. If something else occupies his mind, it seems, he simply forgets being flustered, being too busy with other stuff. Outside of cases, though, it is so funny it is actually sad.

* * *

Derek overhears them talking somewhere in Dakota. JJ is instantly pretty good at handling the media. She looks pretty and delicate and tender, but she doesn't take shit from anybody.

"Uhm." Blinking his way out of his thoughts concerning the geographical profile, Reid turns his body away before he can take his eyes off of the map. JJ is in the room and Derek is as well, the station is cramped and they have to set up everything in one tiny room. Derek looks at him at the sound of his voice. JJ doesn't. "Agent Jareau?"

She lifts her face from whatever she is doing, and despite the tense atmosphere that surrounds them, she manages a smile. "Yes, Dr. Reid?" she asks, something like a laugh almost creeping into her voice.

Something like that happened a couple of times before already and each time it takes the kid off guard for a second or two. "You don't – " He frowns, but it is less a _how could you? _and more a _how do I put it?_ "You don't have to call me that. Dr. Reid, I mean. I mean, you don't have to be so formal."

"Neither do you," she says.

A moment of silence goes by and Derek watches, raising his brows in curious expectation. The kid's lips twitch as if he wants to lick them but he doesn't, pressing them together before daring to speak again with caution: "JJ?"

Derek could be mistaken, but he thinks he sees some sort of pride glowing beneath her smile. "Yes, Reid?"

Sometimes, it is just so easy to make him blush.

* * *

The thing is, there are times when Derek doesn't know what to make out of Reid. How to treat him. Because he knows how he is supposed to treat him, with the FBI agent background and all. But then there is still this age thing. And apart from that, there is his personality, too.

There is an innocence about the kid that Derek hasn't faced in years, he thinks. There is a naivety about him that doesn't fit the vast knowledge of his, that clinical intellect. Between that simplicity and complexity he seems incredibly young and absurdly old, and often enough it switches from one to the other in a matter of seconds. Derek still has to work his way through that. It proves to be more difficult than he expected it to be.

Again, it is more coincidence than anything else that lead him to witness once more how hard it is for the kid to claim a place in the bureau.

Not long before Reid came to the BAU, Derek got the offer to run some self-defense classes himself. This has been pretty good for various reasons, even though Derek probably isn't the most reliable teacher due to the job.

Today, though, he even is a little too early.

He enters the room after he got changed to warm up before his class arrives and is just slightly surprised that he is in fact so early that the previous class still occupies the room. Reid's class.

Derek counts about twenty heads and the trainer is that new guy who started somewhat three weeks ago – Mirren or Mitten or something like that. Derek doesn't particularly like him, and there are some views he just can't bring himself to agree with, and to see that this guy runs Reid's self-defense class isn't really to Derek's liking.

He almost doesn't notice the kid at first, hidden in the back of the crowd where he probably hopes to be overlooked by everyone around. As much as he takes every other class voluntarily, it surely doesn't apply for this one.

"You," the teacher – was it Mitten_s_, maybe? – says to one guy. "And you, come on," he says to Reid.

It only takes one second for Derek to realize that this particular constellation could have never been better. Even from where he stands, he can see Reid's Adam's apple bob, but the kid goes anyway, because he isn't one to disobey – and faces the guy from the hall who almost came at him the other day.

Derek is about to step up and intervene, because honestly, one look is enough to know that this is a bad idea. But he knows, this isn't his fight to fight, no matter how strong the urge to barge in is. So he stifles a shout and pulls his teeth over his lower lip.

Reid is the only one who wears a sweater. Everyone else wears a simple shirt and Derek has to agree that this would be far more convenient for the kid, too. Not to mention that the sweater is much too big for him.

"You might wanna take that off," Mitchell oder Morris or whatever says, regarding the sweater. Reid doesn't react and Derek can't see his face anymore and he doesn't know what they are supposed to be doing here. Isn't it obvious that they don't match each other?

The other guy clearly enjoys having Reid as his opponent. Derek wonders whether the teacher doesn't see it or doesn't care. Or if he is as ignorant as Derek thinks he himself used to be. And maybe sometimes still is, because the kid tickles his protective instincts in a way that isn't suited for the FBI.

Maybe it is because he is a profiler. Maybe it is because he and the kid work together for over a year now. Maybe it is nothing but pure imagination, but Derek thinks he can almost hear the nervous flutter of Reid's heart.

And then, suddenly, everything is a blur of that guy throwing himself at Reid and Reid avoiding every outstretched hand and every attempt to grab him. It starts with Reid not reacting as expected – instead of dodging an attack with a previously taught counter-attack, he simply avoids it altogether and steps aside.

It doesn't look like the kid did it on purpose – if anything, it was mere instinct.

Still, it works as provocation for the other guy. The second time is with more force and determination than necessary and the kid reacts the same way as before. The third time, Reid obviously tries to do as he has been taught – but he ends up fleeing anyway.

He is good at that. Fleeing. Avoiding. That stuff. Derek is almost impressed by it, but the thing is, Reid makes the other guy look like an idiot and the crowd around them starts laughing at the scenery.

It turns from a self-defense lesson into plain high school bullying.

The other guy gets a hold of Reid's sweater and pulls at it that the fabric tears, and the kid bends his knees and stretches his arms and simply twists out of it and slips away. He halfway loses his shirt in that stunt and pulls it down frantically and out of breath, and the other guy stares at the torn sweater in his hand in disbelief before he starts another attack.

"At which point are you planning on stepping in, huh?" Derek shouts and leaves his observation spot.

Martin or Milton or whatever the fucking name is turns around as does almost everyone else. Even Reid stills at the sound of his voice drowning out everything else. Only the other guy doesn't stop and uses the kid's sudden distraction to just throw him onto the mat, the sweater still clutched in his fist. They all can hear how the air is pressed out of his lungs.

Derek looks at him, how the kid closes his eyes in defeat before staring blankly at the ceiling. Then he fixes his gaze on who-cares-what-this-idiot's-fucking-name-is again. "Huh?" he asks. "This is what your classes normally look like? Overgrown middle-schoolers beating each other up?"

"I doubt this sissy could even punch someone hard enough to make it hurt," the other guy pipes up and tosses the sweater in Reid's face as he quietly shifts into a sitting position.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Derek snarls at him, raising a hand. "I talk, you shut up. That's how it goes, got it?" He waits for the other guy to look away and it doesn't take long for him to do so. The trainer won't back down, Derek knows. He himself wouldn't, either. He points a hand at Reid and the other guy, silently demanding an answer.

"What d'you expect?" Miley or whatever finally says. "That's what you come along every day, man. They need to get used to those fights as well."

Derek stares at him for an endless moment in utter disbelief. He almost feels like laughing, it already tugs at the corners of his mouth, but the frown keeps it at bay. "Really?" He can't believe he heard that right. "Do I have to explain your goddamn _job_ to you now or what?"

Reid is still somewhere between sitting and standing. "Morgan…"

"Shut up," he snaps before he can think better of it. But this isn't just about the kid, this is about a fucked up attitude from someone who is responsible for a bunch of rookies.

"Yeah, brains, shut up and let the adults do the talking," the other guy says. How can anyone be so stupid?

Derek really, really tries not to react to that, really, moving his jaw to somehow make the tension disappear. But he turns around to face the other guy and make one step in his direction and another, not caring about the audience that gets an unwanted show. "So it's you, right?" he asks. "You're the man here or what?"

The guy is at least clever enough to become somewhat cautious. "Well, I'm more a man than he's," he answers, jerking his chin towards Reid.

Derek gives a slow nod at that, contemplating those words. "So you think you can pull it off?" he asks. "Better than he does?"

"'f course! That's why I'm here," the other guy answers, the briefest hint of hesitation creeping into his face.

Another nod and Derek stands pretty close already. The guy tries not to back away, moving his shoulders. "Prove it," Derek states simply, feet rooted to the ground in a secure stance. The guy's mouth hitches in a confused smile and Derek is tired of that bullshit. "You're the man, right? So it shouldn't be a problem to knock me down." He waits for a move, a reaction, something. "C'mon, do it," he encourages the guy. "I thought you're the man. Prove it. To me, your friends. _Him_," he adds and points a hand at Reid. The other guy doesn't move and only stares and oh, how it tests Derek's patience. "Lemme ask you a question, do you even _know_ what kinda guys we come across in our line of work at times? Trained Marines on a nervous breakdown. Could you've taken that one? What d'you think?"

"You don't wanna tell me _he_ took that guy down, do you?" the other guy asks.

"No," Derek answers simply. "But he never said he could, either. You seem like the kinda guy that shoots his mouth off until it gets down to business."

"That's enough," the trainer barks and Derek turns around to him. He didn't notice he got that close to the other guy during his rant.

"Ah, so that's enough. But when he tries to beat the kid up, that's worth a look." Derek is so fed up with each and everyone in this room, he is close to losing his temper. "Get outta here," he says with a quick glance at Reid.

"What?" the kid asks.

"You're dismissed," Derek clarifies. "Get to the locker room." He is a little surprised that, without even the slightest hesitation, the kid takes his leave, accepting Derek's authority over his trainer without a question.

Derek waits until Reid is gone before facing the other guy again. "You think he's shit, right? Well, let me tell you, he's not," he says. "But even if he were, the fact that you can outclass a shitty agent in whatever way doesn't make you a good one. Your crap-plus-one attitude won't get you anywhere."

It would be a lie to say Derek isn't satisfied to see the other guy finally pissed off as well. He retreats without any further comment, though. He can't bring himself to say any more. Confronted with so much ignorance and ill will and envy, he gets flashback after flashback of how he himself has treated Reid in the beginning, and it makes him sick. Really. Even more so because he never apologized for that. He said _I'm sorry_, sure, but what is a sorry compared to getting hell from everyone around you?

Reid is busy stuffing his belongings harshly into his gym bag and jerks around as he hears Derek entering the room. His face darkens as soon as he recognizes Derek. Which doesn't really improve Derek's current mood.

"Thank you," the kid spits and continues the fight with his bag. "Thank you for this! The situation wasn't bad enough already, thank you!"

Derek rubs his forehead thoughtlessly. "C'mon now, Pretty Boy," he says, "calm down, will you?"

Somehow, that only makes him angrier. "How am I supposed to calm down?" he asks harshly. Derek doesn't think he has ever seen the kid like that. "We already had difficulties, and do you really think they care that I didn't ask you to interfere? Even if they care, they will blame me because they can't blame you!"

"Nobody's gonna blame you for anything," Derek replies. "'cause unfortunately, you won't get to interact with them much longer."

One of the best and the worst parts about the kid is probably that he is so unbelievably easy to read sometimes. His face hides nothing. Right now, confusion and irritation are written all over it.

"Classes are over and evaluations are just around the corner, and you're right," Derek admits, "you're right, they won't pass." They just can't. Guys like that would make the whole FBI look bad. "So that's that and for your SD classes – " Derek hasn't really thought about it, he just goes with the flow, saying as if stating a fact: "I'll do it."

The kid lets a couple of seconds pass to see if there is anything more to follow, but Derek said what there is to say. "You will… do what, exactly?" he asks, irritation replaced with caution.

"I'll teach you," Derek says.

"What?" The kid blinks and takes a step back and starts shaking his head. "No," he says then, "no. No, no. No. No." And it doesn't sound like a refusal, but more like a plea. "I c-, I can't ask you to, to do that, I'm fine where I am now, I – it's fine, really, I don't – "

"What, you wanna go back in there?"

"At least they're not about to tell Gideon," he blurts.

"Hey, I'm not about to tell Gideon, either," Derek retorts. "What is it with you and Gideon, I – " He groans and shakes his head. He was close to saying he doesn't get it, but that wouldn't be true, because he thinks he does kind of get it. "Kid, you gotta start trusting me a little," he sighs. "I mean, I know that I was a little rough to you in the beginning, but I said I'm sorry, and I thought we were past this. You still holding a grudge or something?"

The kid's face contorts at Derek's words. "Of course not," he says. "I understand why you did it and it's not that. I just – " He stops and rubs his face, looking like the prospect of being trained by Derek isn't much better than returning to his former group. If he has ever seen someone being caught between a rock and a hard place, it is now.

Derek doesn't think that comparison is fair.

"Listen," he tries, "this isn't about Gideon. This isn't about anybody but you. You can't just sit in class and wait for it to be over, you gotta learn what they teach you. It's _important_ that you're able to defend yourself, if you need to. I don't wanna humiliate you, I don't want you to get hurt, if I can help it. No classes, no other students, just me and you. We start from the basics and see where we can go from there, how's that sound?"

Reid licks his lips, a frown darkening his expression. Derek can only guess what is going through the kid's head right now. "Am I allowed to decline?"

"No," Derek answers immediately.

The kid gives an understanding nod, and this is probably as close to a yes as it is going to be. Truth be told, it surprises Derek, too. Certainly, this isn't what he expected when he came here. He didn't even think about teaching the kid personally when he confronted Mustard or whatever, because honestly, the job eats enough time as it is.

Then again… the kid needs help. And at least, if he is doing it himself, he can be sure it is done right.

* * *

It is around that time that Derek starts to wonder.

He spends more time with Reid than with any other of his teammates – because they see each other on cases, they sit in the bull pen together and they spend time in the gym now as well. And even though they practically see each other all day every day, he still knows close to nothing about the kid.

There are basic things, sure. But other than that… they work together for over a year and a half and Derek knows more about Garcia, when he thinks about it. Or even JJ, for that matter. And she isn't even three months in.

Derek enters the bull pen one morning to see the two women deeply engaged in conversation, both leaning against a desk near his own.

"Good morning, ladies," he calls as soon as he is close enough for them to hear.

"I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff," Garcia replies, and Derek's grin gets even broader.

"Wow, you guys," JJ says with a smile, "you want to be alone or something?"

There are only a few people already in the bull pen, so JJ leaving really would make a difference – if it would make a difference at all, that is. Because it wouldn't. All those banters are fun, but harmless. Some friendly flirting, sweet but altogether meaningless.

"Don't bother," Garcia says. "We'll have some alone time later."

"Oh God," JJ laughs and shakes her head.

"Right now, ladies, you'll get some more alone time together, 'cause I'm getting me some coffee," he says and heads for the break room.

"You know, I always wondered if this is already some form of addiction," JJ calls after him.

"Yeah? Well, ask Reid, he'll tell you," Derek calls back.

Derek had kind of a rough night (or maybe it wasn't as rough as it was short), and on mornings like that, more than any other day, he prefers his coffee as black and strong as possible. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to let the night end so late, but he needed some time outside – outside of his house, his job, his everyday life that is so hard to bear at times.

The brew isn't that bad, actually, and he downs half of it in two or three gulps before he refills his mug again and turns towards the exit. He is about to return to his desk and the women nearby, when he sees Reid hanging around in the bull pen, too, sitting cross-legged on top of one of the waist-high file cabinets on the walls.

Derek takes another deliberate sip of his coffee. The kid has a very strange expression plastered on his face, arms hugging his waist, shoulders hunched, eyes directed straight ahead. Derek follows his gaze and finds it fixed on Garcia and JJ. That somehow makes his expression even stranger.

For a moment, Derek just stands there and watches Reid watching the girls, until he decides to walk over to him. "Hey," he greets and raises his mug a little. "What are you sitting here all by yourself?"

The kid turns his face to look at him (and this is something Derek observes quite often and finds pretty incredible, because even if it isn't always with his whole body, Derek has the feeling Reid channels his whole attention onto whoever he is facing).

"Good morning," he says, words low and soft, the same expression still showing.

"Yeah, something like that," Derek answers and leans next to Reid against the cabinet. The kid shifts a little, not moving away, just generally moving. They are quiet for some moments, with only the sound of Derek sipping coffee washing over the beginning buzz of the bull pen.

Hotch enters the bureau shortly after, looking all swift and business. It seems, his first intention is to just cross the floor with a short greeting towards the ladies, but Garcia somehow manages to lure him closer, and he joins them for a chat. JJ is still somewhat more polite than actually friendly, but it gets better every day.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asks while observing the scene that unfolds before the two of them. "Why aren't you over there with them and…" He blinks as it dawns on him. "Wait, isn't that even your desk?"

Reid looks at him blankly as if he wonders why Derek has to ask that after all this time. Then he lowers his gaze onto the ground and lifts a shoulder. "They just came over and started talking," he says, "and I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing." So he played it safe and took off.

Derek chuckles and shakes his head at that. "You were supposed to start a conversation with them," he says. "It's not that hard, kid. I'm pretty sure that's what they have in mind when they came over." Even though they don't seem to have noticed that Reid is missing, yet.

The kid shrugs, all self-conscious all of a sudden.

Something JJ says makes Garcia laugh, and Hotch smiles, too. Reid's eyes flicker back to them, and with those two emotions next to each other, however subtle they might be, it suddenly makes sense.

What he sees in the kid's face is sadness.

"'re you alright there?" Derek asks with a sideway glance at Reid. This feels really odd and Derk doesn't know why.

Reid's nod seems kind of jerky and his "Yeah" sounds broken and hoarse. They watch the other three for another while. Garcia shows the ring she wears on her right hand, with a huge purple sparkly flower. Hotch raises his left hand and shows his simple golden wedding band, shaking his head fondly and turning the ring with a flick of his thumb.

"Amazing, isn't it?" the kid says quietly.

"What is?" Derek asks.

"They are," he answers, tightening the grip around his middle by the sound of it. "They got part of the team so fast. When you look at it, it's really… it's amazing, I think."

"Yeah well, they're women," Derek tries with a grin. "They got their own way of charming people, y'know."

Frowning, the kid shakes his head. "'t's… it's more than that," he says deliberately. "It happened so quickly for them. Sometimes I still f-" He presses his lips together and jerks his gaze away into his lap and visibly refuses to continue to speak. He looks like he didn't even mean to actually start.

Derek looks at him and can almost feel how skepticism creeps into his features, while Reid has an angry stare down with his hands.

Before he can reply anything, though, Gideon appears behind the railing of the upper floor. "Reid," he calls, without really calling. Gideon doesn't call anything or anybody, he mostly doesn't even raise his voice. Sometimes, the words are simply louder than they usually are, and Derek doesn't know how he does it.

Glancing up at him, it takes no time for the kid to react. He unfolds his arms and legs (and it is so amazing to watch how elegant and easy he moves at times, when he is all clumsiness and awkwardness in the gym, during the training, with him) and straightens his shirt. "Excuse me," he mumbles, keeping his head down all the way past Derek and up the stairs.

Gideon watches with that unreadable expression, moving nothing but his eyes and only turning away after Reid made it to the first flight of stairs. He disappears in his office again and Reid soon follows after.

Derek stays behind, the frown plastered on his face, the mug half raised to his mouth but momentarily forgotten.

What was that all about, now? Sure, Derek knows that the kid is all kinds of surprising, but this here is something else. Everything, from his posture to the look on his face to what he was about to say.

He leans back a little, the tip of his tongue grazing the inner edge of his lower lip, and puts the coffee down. What was he about to say? Derek looks ahead and suddenly, the light around his team members is too bright from where he is sitting. Garcia catches his eye and gives a little wave with a cute smile, and Derek responds with a crooked smile of his own. What was Reid about to say?

_Sometimes I still feel like I'm not part of the team_.

* * *

This sticks with Derek longer than it should. It makes him think more than it should. Like many things do, some more, some less.

The thing is, he can't talk to anybody about that. JJ and Garcia aren't long enough here to be objective about that. He can't talk to Gideon, because while Gideon may be many things, Derek somehow doubts that the unit chief really can be objective when it comes to the kid. He can't talk to Reid, obviously, because by now Derek knows at least enough about him to know that Reid doesn't talk about that kind of thing.

He taps his pen against his desk for a long moment where he weighs his options and tries to make a decision.

There is a stack of freshly reviewed case files that Hotch has been waiting for all day, and Derek takes that as a sign, grabs them and gets up in one swift motion. The kid watches him with wide eyes and Derek hitches a brow at him in a friendly way and leaves for the upper floor. A little encouragement won't harm anyone.

The door to Hotch's office stands open and Derek gives a little knock on the door frame to announce his presence.

"Morgan," Hotch greets from behind his desk.

"Waiting for those, aren't ya?" Derek says, handing over the files.

"You took your time with them," Hotch comments and flips quickly through the top two or three. He sounds stern but there is a grin shining in his eyes as he flicks him a gaze.

"Sorry, man," Derek says, not really feeling bad about obviously being the last one to hand them in again. "How's it going in here?"

"It's the quiet before the storm," Hotch murmurs, putting his sign onto a document. "JJ negotiates with the locals in Utah. Expect to get briefed within the next hour."

"Wow, no lunchtime. Now that's a change," Derek remarks sarcastically. But if he is honest with himself, he prefers this over playing a desk jockey. Psychos will never stop appearing in the picture and they will never stop harming people, so he and his team can't ever stop chasing them.

Hotch doesn't replay and somehow, this strikes Derek as odd.

"Something wrong with you?" Derek asks.

Another moment of silence passes, before Hotch lifts his face again. He seems stressed all of a sudden, tired and strained. "Haley and I," he starts, "it's our anniversary in four days and it looks like I won't be there to celebrate it."

"Aw, man, shit," Derek sighs with sympathetic disappointment, maybe more than Hotch himself allows. "I'm sorry."

Two or three seconds, Hotch nods and exhales slowly. Then he tries to lighten the mood, saying: "At least, I was there for her birthday."

Derek gives a laugh and Hotch smiles, but it is kind of sad that this is already an achievement for them.

Turning, he leans against the door frame and lets his eyes wander. It is the everyday picture of people using the phone and shuffling paper and running from here to there. Reid at his desk, typing the time away on his keyboard with his pointers, is still somewhat outstanding, but Derek can't really say whether it is because the kid really is that strange a sight or because Derek has picked up the habit of looking out for him.

"Hotch?" Derek asks, eyes still fixed on the kid. "Do you… do you think Reid's part of the team?"

There is the sound of Hotch putting his pen aside, and Derek can feel his stare burning in his back. And yeah, this is probably a stupid question. Still, Derek can't get rid of that thought. The answer to that should be obvious.

"Do you think the team would function the way it does, if he weren't?" Hotch replies. That, too, is pretty obvious, and Derek is glad that they seem to be on the same page here. He turns around and they look at each other in a silent exchange. This isn't about any official document proclaiming Dr. Spencer Reid being part of the Behavior Analysis Unit of the FBI, they both know. This is about the kid feeling like he belongs to the team. And for the team to reciprocate that feeling.

Derek thinks, he himself does. He thinks, Hotch does, too.

"Y'know, just – " He gives a short laugh, shakes his head and wipes a hand smoothly across his stubble. "Just forget it. This, it's nothing. I, y'know, I just, I'm gonna talk to him, 't's nothing we couldn't fix."

He really believes that. If this really is what Reid was about to say, even though he didn't mean to, then this is something that is only in the kid's head. Derek hopes it won't take too long to get it out of there.

"Is there something wrong with Reid?" Hotch asks.

"No," Derek answers immediately and honestly. They simply have to set some things straight.

Hotch contemplates that for a few seconds. Suddenly, there is something very I-don't-allow-any-bullshit-going-on about him. "I won't ask what this is about," he says, even though it is clear that this is indeed about Reid. "Just tell me I don't have to worry." Because Hotch has his very own way of being protective, and he doesn't pity the kid. He wants him to be alright, standing on his own feet.

"You don't have to worry." It is said with ease and with a grin, and Hotch dismisses him with a slow nod. The kid seems to tickle Hotch's protective instinct in a way Derek hasn't seen with anyone else, yet.

Out of nowhere, there is this picture inside Derek's head of a very professional, tight looking mother hen Hotch protecting his fledgling Reid, and Derek tries so hard not to laugh at that image.

He fails horribly.

* * *

But it takes time to convey what is so abundantly clear for Derek, somehow. Because he knows he can't just walk up to the kid and say things like: "You know, it's crap that you think you're not part of the team, 'cause you totally are." That won't do it. That wouldn't cut it for Derek, either, if he were in his shoes. You don't feel like you are part of something just because someone says you are.

And maybe it is because he watches Reid a little more often these days to see whether the kid gets the message. But he notices how much work there is to do.

One thing that makes him realize that is the way Reid sleeps on the jet. Which is very, very rare to begin with. Sure, Derek isn't one to nap on each flight himself, but the times he feels exhausted and isn't haunted by images of the job, he grabs his headphones, closes his eyes and leans back to get some rest. Much like everyone else does, occasionally.

He hasn't seen Reid doing that in a very long time. The kid reads books or stares blankly out of the window, or sometimes he even writes something. But he is kind of always somewhat alerted, and never lets his guard down completely.

Not even when he is actually sleeping.

Mostly, it ended up being Derek who wakes Reid up on time, if the kid doesn't wake up on his own, and by now, one could say Derek is accustomed to it. He avoids getting kicked in the balls or punched in the face, because he knows he has to watch out for flying limbs. And it isn't always bad. Often nowadays, it is only a shudder or a twist of his wrist. This is okay. Everyone would be a little startled in that situation.

It is on cases that are pretty bad where it is pretty bad. Where he doesn't sleep at all, at least not on the plane. And if he does, because he just can't help it, waking him up is a tiny bit tricky.

That didn't happen since JJ joined the team. Because since JJ joined the team, Reid didn't sleep on the plane. Maybe it is because he doesn't want to come off as weak in front of her and the rest of the team. Maybe it is because he wants to prove that he has grown into the job, finally, after all those incidences Derek has witnessed. Derek can't say.

It is on their way back home from Illinois that Reid accepts exhaustion and excuses himself in order to rest in the back of the jet.

Judging by JJ's expression, she thinks the way he does that is pretty endearing. For Derek, it feels like a flying limb to the gut. Maybe he reads too much into it and he hopes he does. Still, the way the kid curls up into himself, with legs pulled up and arms crossed in front of his chest, is bitter.

Because he doesn't look like he tries to get comfortable, but rather like he tries to protect himself. Even when he sleeps amongst his team.

Derek doesn't know what Hotch or Gideon think about that or if they think anything at all, because yeah, it is actually no big deal and Derek is just being stupid. Yet when the are about to land and Reid is still asleep and JJ says she will wake him up, Derek tells her that, "It's alright, I'll do it." He isn't trying to be condescending, he really isn't. There is just something about the whole situation and about how it weighs on Derek that makes him feel like it would be better to take care of that himself.

He gets up only a short while later, walking over to Reid on the couch and crouching in front of him, so the first thing the kid sees is Derek's face. Despite what one could think, because it brings his face fairly close to Reid's fists that could easily punch him, this has proven to be one of the best ways to wake the kid.

Gently, he puts a hand on Reid's shoulder. Results of the training have yet to catch up with his muscles. "Reid," he says lowly and gives his shoulder a tiny shake. "Hey kid." A sharp intake of breath and the kid flinches, only once and not as hard as he used to. His eyes open and almost instantly find Derek's face. This is all it takes to keep him from freaking out.

That might not seem much and compared to the way the kid still guards himself around them, they still have to go some distance. But it is a start. It is something.

"Almost home," Derek tells him and Reid nods. He isn't the fastest when it comes to waking up. Derek blows a laugh through his nose as Reid sits up and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, and he thinks JJ doesn't really understand why he didn't let her do it.

* * *

One of the most unnerving parts about training Reid is that the kid doesn't want to.

Or maybe he wants to but can't, or he realizes he has to or whatever, Derek isn't sure. The one thing he does know is that the moment Derek grabs Reid, the kid goes completely lax and lets himself be thrown without any resistance, like a sack of potatoes.

The kid lands on the mat with a puffy noise in the back of his throat. Derek represses a sigh, because knowing how to fall the right way is important, too, and Reid really does know that by now. The thing is, he wasn't supposed to fall this time. Or the about ten times before. Derek showed him how to block. He showed him how to attack. But the only think that really works for the kid is not to hurt himself while being thrown around.

"You alright? Come on, up." Derek offers a hand and pulls Reid to his feet again.

"This is ridiculous," he hears the kid mutter as he pushes his hair back. At least he got rid of the sweater Derek has seen on him the first time he saw Reid during a training session.

"It's not ridiculous," Derek counters, "you just make it way more complicated than it actually is."

They look at each other for a moment and Reid narrows his eyes, giving him a once-over. "Is i-" He stops after his first breath in a flash of hesitation. "Is it possible that you maybe lied to me?"

Derek frowns. "What?" He hasn't noticed there was a chance for him to lie about something, and even if, Derek doesn't lie, okay?

"Yeah, remember when – " He turns to face Derek again, this I'm-so-busy-thinking-right-now expression of his smeared across his features. "When I asked you how much you weigh? Maybe the answer you gave me wasn't correct, because I was going through this in my head and it should've worked, but it didn't and – "

"Stop going through this in your head and start doing it already." It sounds harsher than intended, but honestly, how hard can it be?

"I can't do it, if you're lying about your weight!" the kid insists.

"Of course you can, everybody's doing it that way!" Said with an irritated twitch of his hand, and Reid frowns and exhales and licks his lips and shifts his weight, moving back an inch. "Look, I don't know how much you weigh and I don't care and it works perfectly fine just like that. And during a fight, you can't just stop to ask about shit like that."

"But think about it, knowing that would allow you to operate on a much more efficient level, just by applying the laws of physic on your opponent's weigh to maximize the leverage – "

"Seriously, stop that," Derek interrupts, because the kid really stresses his patience here. "Nobody cares about that shit, you do what you gotta do and maximize it through practice. Goddammit, kid, _get out of your head_."

Neither of them really pays attention to Reid mumbling that this is the way he works or to Derek responding that, with the kid's age, there's still plenty of time to change one or two things about how he works.

He shows him where to put his hands. He shows him how to grab and hold on. He shows him how to work his feet and where to put his weight. Slowly, step by step. Explain it to him, this is how it's done. And he tries not to put too much thought into how surprised Reid seems to be by the fact that Derek really tries to be careful and not to hurt him why throwing him.

When it is the kid's turn again – for what feels like the hundredth time – he is hesitant as always. He grabs Derek where he is supposed to grab him (and Derek only slightly adjusts the posture of his arms) and for a second or two he really attempts to try. But then he lets go and practically jerks away from Derek and takes a step back and is frustrated with everything – especially with himself.

"This is useless," he mutters while rubbing his face.

"Relax, kid, nobody's judging," Derek says. He thinks it is best to stay where he is.

"They all are judging me!" he exclaims. "Every time! It doesn't matter what I'm doing, they will always just – " He doesn't continue.

"Come on now, that's why we're here. We're practicing it, you'll get the hang of it." The kid makes a sound at that and it could be a laugh, but it sounds too bitter and Derek doesn't think this is even funny. "You're not doing this for anybody but you, you want to be safe. You don't have to give a damn about the others. Really, just trust your instincts and let your body memory do the rest for you. You gotta stop thinking and start feeling it."

"Yeah, I'm feeling very uncomfortable right now, thank you very much," he says.

But after another twenty minutes or so, after Reid saying he doesn't want to hurt Derek by doing something wrong, after Derek stating that he isn't that easily hurt, after a lot of persuasion – after all that, Derek finally, _finally_ hits the mat for the first time without faking it too much.

Sure, he helped a little and didn't put up a fight, but the kid needed a boost really, really bad and Derek wanted to give him that. And something about the smile the kid tries to hide, something about that glow and that shyness and pride makes all the difficulties they had over the last hour and even before pretty damn worth it.

Even though they should probably stick to defense rather than attack for the kid.

* * *

Derek is pretty satisfied with the outcome.

Yeah, results are slow, but they _are_ there and progress is more and more evident with each passing session. Garcia makes a playful comment on that, and she is right, Reid's confidence seems to grow. A little.

Still, all that does nothing to calm Derek down, when on a case in Minnesota, he suddenly can't spot the kid anywhere anymore – while they are out there to capture an armed Unsub suffering from a nervous breakdown. Derek tries not to freak out and to focus. The kid could be anywhere, and Derek hopes he is out there with Hotch or something. That hope is crushed, however, when Derek and Hotch come face to face with each other and no Reid is in sight.

They are on an abandoned factory property which they found because of Gideon, who pointed out the nervous breakdown, and Reid, who is really talented with geographical profiles and comfort zones, and Garcia, who apparently can bend every electronic device to her will.

"Reid?" Derek only asks, and Hotch looks at him as if saying 'I thought he was with you'. That makes two of them, and Derek can't even inhale enough oxygen to swallow a curse, when there is a shot blasting through the air.

They are off and on their way before the echo fades.

The shot was close enough to hear that Reid must be nearby, but too far no guarantee that there won't be another aiming at the kid or that they will make it there in time.

Derek can hear Reid shouting "Don't shoot, don't shoot!" and another voice shouting "Go away!"

But when Derek gets to where Reid is, he sees that he is completely useless – because the Unsub is cornered in a deadlock and the kid effectively blocks the only way in and out. The Unsub points a gun at Reid and Derek can do nothing but to hold on to his own gun and wait for an opportunity to get in and switch places. There is no place to run. But Reid can still be short.

Reid's shirt wrinkles awkwardly around his shoulders beneath the kevlar. His hands are raised to his head and the revolver is clutched uselessly in the right.

"Don't shoot," Reid says again. "Everything is alright, don't shoot."

Hotch and Derek share a glance, covering each one side of Reid with local police in the back. "Stuart Matheson!" Hotch calls.

"Go away!"

"FBI!" Derek announces with a bellowing voice. "Drop the gun!"

"You're FBI?" Matheson sobs at Reid, and it sounds like an accusation, as if Reid has lied to him, and the gun starts shaking. And shaking is really bad.

"No, I'm not," Reid lies, sounding almost offended. "Look at me, do I look like FBI to you? I'm not, I'm here, with them, to help you." The kid is shaking, too.

"I shoot you," Matheson threatens.

"No! Tha-that's not necessary!" the kid says hastily. "Look, the gun? I'm putting it down."

"You won't!" Derek barks.

"I shoot you!" Matheson shouts. "I shoot him!"

A clusterfuck of voices follows with Derek shouting something he doesn't understand and with Hotch shouting something that is overlapped by his voice and with Matheson screaming something drowning in tears. And it all ends with Reid's gun hitting the ground.

Seriously?

The kid could have bent down somehow to allow Derek to shoot. Or Hotch, for that matter. This would have been the perfect chance. Instead he stays rooted where he is, as straight as possible, and something about that makes Derek think that, when the kid says "Don't shoot", he actually means them and not Matheson.

If he would kick in Reid's knees, maybe Derek could shoot. But he doesn't dare to try out the _if _and _maybe_ there.

"Mr. Matheson," Reid says, voice low and hushed and fingers curled against his palms to hide how bad he is shaking. "We're only here to help you. Put the gun down. You haven't hurt anybody deliberately, right? Don't start now."

"Then go _away_!" he screams again, on the verge of tears, like a six-year-old, if it makes Derek question some things, things he thinks he might have missed and Reid apparently hasn't. "Go away or I'll shoot you! I shoot you!"

"Try and I'll send a bullet through your brain," Derek growls. "You'll probably miss. I definitely won't."

"We need a sniper on the opposite roof," Hotch says into his wrist where the radio is, loud enough for Matheson to hear, and Derek is almost certain he bluffs, because he can't remember having special forces with them. But it does the trick.

For Reid.

"No, no sniper, don't – I can – " He takes two or three quick breaths and tries half a step forward, saying: "Mr. Matheson, please, you have – "

"Don't come closer!" he screams, crying and uttering every word like he is in unbelievable pain, taking a step back himself, tightening his grip around the gun. One more step and Derek can go for it, only one more. "Go away! All of you, go away! Leave me alone!"

For a split second Derek fears this is going to escalate with the kid at the receiving end of a gun, and then Reid says: "Alright, we can do that." And Derek wants to smack him so hard right now for so many reasons.

It distracts Matheson, though, and if Reid would be standing a little closer, Derek could grab him and Hotch could have a clear line of fire.

"We can do that, sure, if that's what you want, we'll go, no problem," Reid says, taking another step towards the guy, away from Derek and Hotch and any possible grasp. "But let me ask you this before we go," he says quietly. "Once we're gone, will you really be alone?"

Feet shuffle across a dusty floor, but other than that, it gets silent. Hotch and Derek look at each other for a heartbeat, because what the hell is the kid asking? Then they realize they have been left out on Reid's train of thoughts.

After another long moment, the tears that were evident in his voice start streaming down his face as he utters a broken: "No…"

"No," Reid repeats and concern seeps into Hotch's features because nobody knows where the kid is going with this and it could so easily blow up. "See, and this is why we're here, we can help you – "

"_No one _can help me!" Matheson screams desperately, shaking his gun at Reid.

"Yes, I can help you, you have to trust me, _I _can help you, I know people who – Dr. Everett Norman, I know him, he can help you, just – " He attempts yet another step but stops in his tracks as Matheson rubs his face, smearing snot and tears, and sobs. "You have to trust me. I know you can't, but you have to."

"I'm so tired," Matheson cries pathetically. "I just want to sleep."

"I know," Reid says. They all know. Wasn't hard to deduce that after they found the stack of sleeping pills and empty silver strips. They were called because security men were found dead, and it only ever clicked that it wasn't for the men but for what they stood watch for, and that the men were nothing but accidents. Obviously, Reid had something more in mind.

"I am not a bad person!" Matheson screams.

"No," Reid says instantly, practically dripping with sympathy. "No, you're not." Another step, and suddenly Hotch can move behind Reid to secure the scene. It doesn't look like Matheson even notices it. "Just put the gun down," Reid says, "and let me cuff you, and I _promise _you, I will get you help so you can sleep again.

And in the end, Matheson obeys and drops the gun and Reid kicks it away and cuffs him, finally under the protection of Hotch and Derek. All the way from that shithole to the police car (Reid is guiding the way, for the first time ever), Derek can hear Matheson's muffled voice but there are no words to grasp, only something that sounds like "Go away", which would be ridiculous, because they are obviously past this issue.

"You alright?" Derek finds time to ask after Matheson sits in a police car and cries in silence, stopping the kid with a hand on his shoulder, because he is just about to take off again.

"Yeah," he gasps softly, somewhat startled and short of breath, and clears his throat because he probably didn't even hear himself. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." But he doesn't seem fine.

He seems rattled.

And then it is over and everyone slowly starts packing up, and Derek realizes that he is actually pretty fucking pissed at the kid. He obviously held back information that was way too important to he held back. He put not only himself but the whole team in danger.

How little does he trust the team, if he doesn't even share his thoughts in a situation like that?

* * *

Back at the station, Derek sees the kid alone in a small room, talking quietly and hastily on the phone to one Dr. Norman or something. He isn't about to interrupt, because he doesn't really know what to say other than "Are you out of you _fucking_ mind?" – which is all he can come up with, actually, whenever he sees the kid.

Gideon does it, however. He enters the room Reid is in and positions himself patiently next to the door, silently demanding Reid to face him. Of course, Reid ends the phone call fairly quickly.

Derek doesn't plan on eavesdropping, honestly, but the things he can do after closing a case are limited, and when he goes to check upon Gideon and Reid after ten minutes or so, they are still huddled together in that tiny room. Reid sits at the table with his arms wrapped around his waist. Gideon leans next to him against the edge of the table top. You could cut the mood with a knife in there.

"You think Hotch is wrong?" Gideon asks calmly, just when Derek is about to pass the coop.

The kid looks at the table top and shakes his head, his face contorting. "I'm sorry," he says, nothing but a rueful whisper.

Gideon moves his jaw, shaking his head, too. "I'm not saying this because I want you to apologize," he states. And after a pause: "You knew it wasn't a nervous breakdown."

Reid picks up his gaze and fixes his flickering eyes on the unit chief. Derek dips his head back a little, waiting. This is what he suspects, too, and to hear it now from Gideon is both somewhat reassuring and shit.

"Not from the beginning," the kid interjects weakly.

"But somewhere along the way, you figured it out," Gideon says.

The kid clears his throat, playing for time. "It was a theory," he tries hoarsely after a moment.

Gideon doesn't buy that. Derek sees it immediately, and he thinks Reid realized it as well. His expression doesn't say 'I demand an answer' but rather 'I want you to understand why you did what you did'. "Why didn't you come to us to discuss your theory?" he asks. After all, it isn't like anybody demands a newly found theory to be correct. They aren't a team for nothing.

This scene isn't for Derek to intervene, though. He is still pissed and mother hen Hotch evidently is, too, but maybe the unit chief manages to set the kid straight.

* * *

On their way back to Virginia, just after exiting the plane, Derek overhears Hotch calling Reid back. Gideon marches on like he hasn't noticed and JJ pulls a face towards Derek that says 'So glad I'm not him right now'. Derek kind of thinks so, too, and he really would like to know what Hotch is telling the kid.

He is still pretty damn upset, and that doesn't change when Hotch crosses the bull pen some time after that without any comment, or that the kid follows, looking like a puppy being scolded for eating the new pair of shoes.

Much.

It stirs some old feelings and old thoughts Derek thought he had left behind. And they are suddenly sparkling in a whole new light. He always thought, for as long as he was thinking it, that Reid might not be able to handle the job because of his youth, his innocence, his physical inferiority, and now he is thinking… he doesn't know what he is thinking.

He doesn't know what he is _supposed _to be thinking. Why didn't he tell them?

It can't be because he doesn't trust them, right? Derek hopes so, because that would be such a huge step backwards, in both directions. And it can't be because Reid still feels like he isn't part of the team, right? Even in the beginning, they would teach him the ropes by asking what he was thinking about certain aspects of a case, and Reid would answer, and even if the answer was bordering wrong, that would be okay. They all are wrong from time to time. They never stop learning and they can't be expected to know everything – not even Reid.

Derek actually intended to just grab his things and go home, call it a day and catch up on some sweet sleep, however boring that might sound. But the way Reid sets himself up on his desk for what looks like a longer stay, lets him stop.

"Ey," he says, the sound clicking somewhere in his throat. "You gettin' comfortable over there or what?"

"Uhm." He looks down on himself, getting closer to the desk with his chair. "Yeah, I… I figured I could write my report now and… close the case for good." His eyes flicker across Derek's face, before he drops it onto the keyboard in front of him, blinking rapidly.

"You look like shit," Derek comments dryly after a second.

"Well," the kid huffs, "thanks for pointing that out." His voice is hollow and strangely close to shaking, and he swallows that it reminds Derek of sand paper. Still busy avoiding Derek.

"Hotch gave you hell?" Derek assumes casually.

That makes Reid meet his eyes again, and his Adam's apple bobs, lips stretching as if saying 'Yeah, he did, but it's okay, I fucked up and I deserve it, and expected worse'. Judging by the way he looks, he feels pretty bad about what he did. And really, he should. It pacifies Derek, a bit.

"'m, Morgan?" Reid rasps, maybe sensing his change in mood. If so, it is a wise decision that he acts on it. "I, for, I want to apologize, for what I did with Matheson. I know it was wrong and I didn't want to put you guys in danger. I'm sorry I did. I just wanted to, when I figured it could be schizophrenia, I know Matheson could only partly control his actions and I, I…" He is swimming in his words, fishing for an adequate answer, but there is none. He stammers something about how he wanted only to help and how he didn't know how to tell them that he knew it wasn't a nervous breakdown and how he couldn't explain how he knew what it was instead.

There is something odd about that way of thinking, because they have never really questioned before how Reid knows any of the stuff he knows.

"Can you slow down there for a sec?" Derek asks and slumps against the nearest surface. "It's not only about putting us in danger. You put _yourself_ in danger, I almost had a heart attack when I saw Matheson pointing a gun at you!" Some of the old anger flares up at those words. Honest to God, a situation like that never happened, not even close, and until a few hours ago, Derek kind of successfully blocked out that it was and is always possible. "You know we're a team. We keep each other safe first and foremost, that's what a team does – "

"I know," he breathes.

"Yeah, and this only works if we work together. I don't have to explain this to you, do I?" Obviously, Derek doesn't. He takes a calming breath and exhales slowly, allowing a moment of recollection for them both. "I'm not saying it doesn't matter how you can be so sure about certain things, right? I'm not saying that. But we can't just go and say nothing at all. It's dangerous for everybody, us, the locals, the victims. Whatever reason you might've had not to let us in on that little detail, be glad it worked out this time, but don't expect it to work out next time as well. This is our work, this is serious business, peoples' _lives_ depend on this. And you're no use to anybody, if you get a bullet through that genius brain of yours."

Derek can only guess how much of his little speech the kid has already heard from Hotch or Gideon in one way or the other. It isn't like he doesn't deserve it, though.

"I won't do it again," he says.

"You better not. Hotch might just kick you out himself, if you do," Derek answers lightly. That really isn't hard to understand. "You know, work is work. Whatever you tell anyone apart from that is your decision, and at least for me, that's confidential."

"Thank you," he answers quietly.

"Not for that, Pretty Boy," Derek replies, but maybe he shouldn't press any further. Subtle annoyance is slowly seeping through his guilty expression. Derek gathers his things again and Reid nods and turns to face his computer. "Oh, and just one more thing," he adds after two or three steps.

"Yeah?" Reid asks, looking expectantly at him.

"If you, and I won't repeat myself here," he starts, every syllable over-articulated, "if you pull a stunt like that, _ever _again… I'm gonna smack your head so hard, you won't even have the IQ of white bread anymore. We clear?"

"Yeah. Yes, sure." His throat constricts visibly and his eyes are wide and unblinking as he stares at him.

On his way out, Derek can only hope that the kid will take his words to heart. But just to make sure, he will probably put a little extra in the training from now on.

* * *

The problem is that all the training in the world could have never prepared them for what they are experiencing in this particular night.

For the briefest instant, Derek wonders why it always has to be in places like that. A lone warehouse complex. Seriously, can it get possibly any creepier? They are in Boston, but when it comes to things like that, every place looks the same. He hasn't seen so many FBI agents and special forces outside of Quantico in a long time – apparently Adrian Bale is a big deal not only to the BAU.

The Boston Shrapnel Bomber – that is what the press calls him. To them, he is Adrian Bale, a guy who has killed people through bombs placed in packages. They explode when tilted. Got three already, known, and the fourth is on the line with a hostage being in Bale's grasp.

Derek inhales slowly and reaches for his gun again, just making sure it is still there, in place, ready to be used if necessary. Reid's eyes follow his move but flicker away as soon as he notices Derek watching him, hugging his middle tighter. The kevlar vest stands out dramatically against his white shirt with tiny blue dots.

They stay behind, this is the deal. They stay behind, securing the back, providing force if needed. They all hope they won't be needed. So much.

_They_, that means Derek, Hotch and Reid. Garcia works her magic from Quantico. JJ stayed at the station. And Gideon is over there, handling the negotiations. Derek really doesn't want to be in his shoes right now. Some SWAT guys are with him and all around them. Gideon picked them personally this time, chose a unit he worked with several times before already. Derek himself knows at least one of those guys, the one right next to Gideon. He and Terry went through bomb squad together for some time.

Out of the corner of his eye, Derek sees how a shudder ripples through the kid's body. "Cold?" Derek asks quietly.

Reid jerks his head no, not looking at him, staring straight ahead to where Gideon and the others are, shadowy figures in the dark. If he would be any more tense, the kid's skin would crack like stone. Derek reaches out a bit and puts a hand on Reid's shoulder. He doesn't know whether it is a good sign or a bad that the kid doesn't pull away and merely hugs himself tighter.

"What's going on there?" he whispers.

Derek shakes his head. He would like to answer that, but he can't really do that, he knows.

After a minute or so, Hotch joins them and they stand in line like a bunch of goddamn boy scouts, safe behind condors of police. Cars with wide open doors are all around them, with the light of muted sirens flickering across the hoods. Ambulances have been called already and medics are at the ready, because they rather be safe than sorry, since Bale is a fucking bomber who could blow up any second.

Gideon is out there trying to talk Bale down, and Derek constantly thinks he could be so much more useful out there, next to the unit chief and Terry and the guys. Instead he is here now, having detention.

"Shouldn't we be out there with him?" Reid voices the exact same thought Derek has been having since Gideon stepped past the barriers and ordered them to stay put.

"What, does the profile say, is one of the major traits of Bale's personality?" Hotch asks.

Reid thinks for a second. "Cowardice," he answers then and lowers his chin in defeating understanding.

And it does make sense, of course. Bombers choose bombing because they fear direct confrontations. Thus, having the whole BAU stomping towards Bale would be worse than having Gideon doing the job, accompanied by some faceless SWAT.

But when suddenly action starts taking place amongst them, everyone is on high alert. Derek checks his kevlar and draws his gun automatically, while getting as close to the condor as possible, ready to rush in any moment. Hotch is at his side in an instant and Reid follows, half a step behind.

"Get ready, everyone," Hotch murmurs into the radio at his cuff.

Gideon and SWAT stop some feet in front of the delivery entrance. The roll-up door is nowhere to be found and the gaping hole leads into blackness. Derek thinks he can sense someone stepping out before he actually sees it.

Adrian Bale emerges from inside, hands held high above his head and steps deliberately slow. He pokes his head out first and then shoves his body outside and takes step after step towards Gideon. It is probably due to carefulness, but for the blink of an eye, Derek has a feeling it is more like mockery.

Bale stops, hands still up in the air. He is alone. The hostage is still inside.

"Ready to make arrest," Hotch says into his wrist.

"Is it that easy?" Reid asks behind them.

"It's not easy," Hotch says. His voice lets Derek think Hotch has the same bad feeling. The kid's question does so, anyway.

Bale says something Derek can't hear. When he falls silent again, it is probably Gideon who says something in return. Bale tips his head back. Another round, a nod from Bale, and then SWAT starts moving past Bale into the warehouse. Everything could be good now. Everything could work out just fine, so smooth.

But Derek doesn't see the remote Bale is still holding.

He only ever notices it after about half a minute of SWAT disappearing into the building. Just before Bale is cuffed. There is something like "Sorry" creeping through Bale's grin. Then the whole world is gone and only thunder and fire and a shaky ground are left as the warehouse explodes.

Hotch and Derek sink to the ground and immediately seek cover behind the nearest SUV, Hotch half dragging Reid with him. There is a sound inside Derek's head that makes it feel like it is close to just split open. Hotch allows himself a moment of weakness, hands clasped over his ears and fingers digging into his skull, eyes screwed shut and mouth o-shaped as if he could just exhale the unexpected pain.

Derek has no idea how long they sit there in smoke and deafness. Probably only a couple seconds, even though it feels like hours where he doesn't hear a thing and can't remember how to breathe.

The next thing he notices is Reid next to him and how he scrambles to his feet again. And moves his feet. And runs past him. In the direction of where Bale and Gideon and the exploded warehouse are.

Shit.

Derek tries to grab the kid's leg but misses it by this much. "Reid!" he calls, the name scratching in his throat, but he can barely hear it himself. Yet, being spun back into action helps for that matter. He climbs to his feet and tries finding out whether or not the ground still wavers. "Fuck… fuck." He presses his lips together and leans forward to see if his legs can support him.

They can, they do, and that is all it takes for him to take off himself, chasing after Reid, probably the most stupidest genius he ever met. Ever.

Through the smoke and booming he can't see much. Crazy. Like some suffocating form of the spooky stuff he tried in amusement parks when he was a kid. Before his dad died. After that, things like that didn't seem so scary anymore.

"Reid!" he shouts. His throat is sore and his lungs are stuffed with things that don't belong there. Once or twice he comes across SWAT or one of the locals. They all look alright, kind of, so he concentrates on finding the kid to make his life living hell in case the brilliant idiot got himself hurt. "Reid!"

"Morgan!"

He tries not to lose his orientation in this chaos, but hearing his name makes him spin around, blinking into fiery reddish grayness. He hopes he didn't just imagine it, and almost runs him over and only then realizes that _them_ would be more accurate.

Reid has hooked one of Gideon's arms around his shoulders and halfway carries him away from what used to be the warehouse. "Morgan," he says again, short of breath. "Take him, take Gideon!"

Gideon shows no reaction as Derek grabs him and yanks him up, an arm around his shoulders as well, just like Reid did. "Are you alright?" Derek asks the kid. "Is he hurt?"

"I'm fine," he breathes, a shaking hand pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Take him, get him out of here!" Derek wants to say something, but the kid cuts him off before he can, yelling: "_Go_!"

Derek doesn't remember having heard the kid so determined before.

All the way to the nearest ambulance, Derek tries to coax Gideon into giving him some form of recognition. But the unit chief is in a state of shock, not seeing or hearing anything. "Gideon!" Derek tries in a desperate attempt, but it doesn't even earn him a turn of his head. "Jason!" Because oh God, he can't do this alone, but there is nothing, nothing.

Just when Derek hands Gideon over to the medics, there is another explosion. They all jerk away from the direction, except for Gideon. This time, though, it wasn't that loud, or maybe it was and Derek's hearing is just too damaged to perceive it. Hopefully, this isn't permanent. He is already annoyed by the hollow sound, and it hurts. But at least, there is no blood coming out of his ears.

And Reid isn't with him, he didn't follow, still hidden within the smoke somewhere. Hotch is nowhere to be found, either, and fucking shit, his team is out there. In there. Where the fuck is his team?

"Agent – "

Derek shakes off the hand that tries to grab him and leads into the smoke once more.

He finds Reid far more quickly the second time around, since the kid doesn't seem to have moved a bit. Derek sees his shaking legs through his trousers, but that isn't what terrifies him. There is a huge dark spot that spreads out fast, and this could be okay, because who would blame someone for wetting their pants now? The problem is, the dark spot is nowhere near the spot where you usually wet your pants.

It comes from his left hip and inches down the outer side of his leg.

Reid has his hip covered with one hand and lifts it now for Derek to see the sharp looking piece of metal sticking out just where the kevlar doesn't protect the kid anymore. And his palm, black with his own blood.

"Shit." Derek is at his side in an instant and the kid tries to cover up again. "Let me see that."

"Where's Gideon?" the kid asks breathlessly.

"Safe, now let me see." Derek tries to pull Reid's hand away.

"Where's Hotch?"

"Don't know." There is so much blood already.

"You need to find Hotch first," Reid says.

"Don't tell me what to do, shut up and let me see!" The kid obeys and a part of Derek almost wishes he didn't. So much blood. The piece of rusty corrugated sheet is glistening with it. "I can't pull it out, I might hurt you even more, if I do," Derek says. His fingers are sticky and the kid's face is white.

"I know," Reid answers. "Bale is, Bale's over there, he's unconscious – " He doesn't put up a fight as Derek pulls his arm over his shoulder and shoves a hand under his armpit to hoist him up, careful not to touch his wound. Hotch chooses the exact same moment to find them, and Reid jerks towards him. "Hotch," he says, "Hotch, you need to get B-B-Bale and then get out of here," and his lips cramp with the name, his Adam's apple bobbing comically.

Derek wishes he could laugh at that, but he is too scared to even blink.

Hotch scans the scene in an instant, catching his breath. "Alright," he says then. He shares a glance with Derek, silently asking and answering all at once, and then ways part.

"I think I can't participate in your training for a while," Reid jokes weakly and it rattles in his throat. He leans heavier on Derek with each step, allowing a little "Ow" to escape his lips. In the almost two years since he met the kid, Derek has never heard him utter a word of pain, even though he surely felt it on more than one occasion.

It makes Derek's head spin.

"Hey, c'mon, don't sweat it," Derek says and tries to sound lightheartedly, but he feels he fails. The kid gets paler by the heartbeat. "We'll just save the sessions and do them all in one go when you're up for it again."

"You do know that _that_ would be rather ha-harmful than beneficial, right? The body only can take, take so much to a certain point and to-to, to train in advance – " His feet get caught up in the concrete and he trips. Derek's grip tightens and results in a deep groan from Reid's side. "Sorry," he gasps, "sorry."

"You were saying?" Derek asks instead of a straight reply.

"S-, sw- " Reid kind of laughs. "Switching between too much training and too little, little will never surpass the effect of a re-g-gular schedule."

"Yeah, I do actually know that, kid," Derek says, but whatever kind of joke that might have been, it is lost in silence and the uproar around them. The kid doesn't say anything more, and Derek doesn't like it. "Hey," he says, nudging Reid with his shoulder in an awkward angle. "What else is there? What else can you come up with?"

Reid is quiet for another moment and it sends a shiver down Derek's spine, and the kid's shirt slowly becomes slippery under his palm. Then he starts telling him about the "Hub-hub-, H-, Hubble Telesc-… -cope", and somehow manages to connect it to toxemia, and Derek thinks he would listen to the kid's rambling for ten years straight, if that would stop the blood from leaking out.

By the time they make it to an ambulance, Reid's stutter is so bad that Derek doesn't understand half of what he is saying.

When they make it back to Quantico, Garcia rushes towards then, simply asking Hotch "Permission to hug you, sir." It is more than granted and Derek thinks it is the first time he sees them exchanging more than a handshake or something like that. After jugging both JJ and Derek as well, she only freaks out a little as they tell her Gideon and Reid are in a hospital.

* * *

They all are told to have at least two weeks off to bounce back and recover. Three days in, they are told to make it at least four.

Derek can't really remember what he is doing those four weeks. Sleeping, he guesses. Lots of sleeping. He purchased a new property, just recently, which is pretty rundown and amazing. On the first day there, he finds a puppy in the backyard. No collar, no one misses it, no one is looking for it. After a trip to the vet and some waiting and in a rush of sudden loneliness, he decides to keep it. Him. His name shall be Clooney. He looks like a Clooney.

He spends much time on his new property with Clooney, to renovate the house. The backyard is feral but other than that stunning, bounded by a fence and harmless. Perfect for Clooney, when Derek is inside tearing walls down. He remembers sitting on the porch and eating a sandwich when he gets a text from JJ saying Reid left the hospital. He talks to Garcia a couple times, to his mother as well.

He has nightmares. His hearing gets better. He is tired, often.

* * *

The first person he meets after entering the bureau after four weeks is Garcia. She didn't have the time off – apparently, since she wasn't personally present in Boston, the higher ups didn't deem it necessary for her to recover. Plus, she is responsible for other teams, too, so they can't just take her out after establishing her.

The hug he receives from her is heart-melting.

JJ is the second one to arrive, but actually, she is the third one, since Hotch is already sitting in his office.

When Reid steps through the glass doors of the bull pen, with his usual grandfather attire and his messenger bag and a coffee to go, Derek feels a huge wave of relief crashing over his head and only a tiny little bit of regret. And maybe regret is too big a word or the wrong word altogether – because for a split second, there is the thought that Derek didn't try hard enough to kick him out while he still could. But what happened to the kid could have happen to anyone. After all, Reid can't even remember when he got hit, he only ever noticed at some point that there was something sticking out of his side.

And Derek can give in to an honestly relieved breath as the kid slowly makes his way to his desk.

The sweater vest hides the bandage quite well. The kid's movements not so much.

They gather in the round table room, all of them, Garcia included. All of them, except for Gideon, and especially Reid searches for him with wide eyes that can't completely hide the pain as he sits down.

Hotch tells them that Gideon won't be coming back for a while, not now and not any day in the nearest future. He took medical leave and for now, until further notice, Hotch will be acting unit chief of the BAU.

Reid gnaws at his upper lip, his face all but screaming worry. And a little fear. The girls clearly have no real idea how to react while Hotch himself obviously wished for better news to deliver. Derek, for that part, tries to fight all those nasty emotions that suddenly rear their ugly heads at him.

He knows Gideon didn't choose for Bale to blow up the warehouse. And the hostage in it. And the SWAT guys who went in. Yet there is this bitter voice inside him that insists that Gideon should have known better. He should have seen the remote. He shouldn't have risked it. It is the same voice that reminds him that, during his own leave, Derek went to Terry's funeral.

Yet the room is so quiet and the voice is just so loud.

* * *

It isn't surprising, though, that Reid is the one who takes Gideon's absence the hardest. The only thing that surprises Derek is _how _hard the kid actually takes it.

The smile that Derek became so accustomed to appears less and less frequently. And with it vanishes the fragile confidence that Reid had developed over the time he has been here.

It isn't hard to get used to Hotch being the unit chief. But every day Gideon's absence is a little harder to ignore, and every day the kid gets a little more insecure. It makes Derek question some things, more than he would like to admit it.

Okay, so it _is_ shit that Gideon didn't come back immediately. It is shit that two weeks of him not being there turn into four weeks which turn into six. That sucks. But they can sure as hell still do their job, alright? They don't need Gideon to deliver a decent performance.

They get used to it.

And slowly, slowly Reid works his way into a BAU without Gideon, joining the rest of them there. Not having Gideon around doesn't make things any easier, and Derek didn't expect that it would. _But_ it doesn't make things any worse, either, and _this_ is huge. They have to make up for Gideon's absence and even endure some prejudices because of it, and where Gideon managed everything before, they are called into action now. They have the chance to grow. As a team. As profilers.

And they do.

Reid just like everyone else. Even though he doesn't seem to notice that himself.

* * *

Escalation happens in Lincoln, Nebraska. They are investigating a case where someone apparently gains access to houses, waits for the families to come home and lock everything for the night, and then kills every living soul inside.

It is when Reid broadcasts the idea that it doesn't necessarily have to be a man, but that it could be a woman as well. The lack of force while gaining entrance could support that. Then again, the fathers were practically slaughtered. But for all they know, the children were always treated gently, and rather than being murdered violently, they were put to rest with an overdose of sleeping pills. But it isn't the possible likelihood (or unlikelihood therefore) that makes him snap. Things like that need to be discussed, it allows new perspectives, and seemingly they have finally reached the point where they aren't just a unit in saying.

It is the reaction of one of the cops they are working with.

Hotch gives out orders as to what to do next. JJ and the local officer in charge are supposed to handle the media, of course, and talk to the elderly lady neighbor of the first family that might have seen something. Hotch himself and Derek will check the latest victims' house again. Reid is told to work on a geographical profile and, together with Garcia in Quantico, search the families' backgrounds for any connection again, around a female in particular this time.

Derek realizes too late what is going on. Reid is grabbing his things and one of the cops approaches him, laughing, asking whether or not the kid actually believes what he just said, about a chick being the guy and stuff.

"I mean, look at that. Whoever did this, he slit the guys' throats and smashed their heads in, that doesn't look girly to me."

Derek gets fully aware of the conversation as the kid explains how it isn't that hard to slit someone's throat, if one knows how to handle the windpipe, and Derek can see how, while he says that, light flashes behind his eyes in a sudden idea what to look for in the families' backgrounds.

The guy in front of him doesn't notice that, though, laughs again and asks: "Aren't ya little young to know stuff like that?"

And Reid, in an honest to God serious manner, just blinks and says: "Aren't you a little old not to?"

"Oh, so now I gotta be lectured by some little smartass twat?" the cop says and Reid's expression darkens displeased.

"Hey! Watch it!" Derek calls from the back, and from the look he receives, it is clear the guy thought he and Reid would be alone.

"Look," he says quickly, "I don't mean to be rude, but this – "

"But you mean to be rude anyway," Reid interrupts him.

The guy blinks. "What?"

"When you say things like 'I don't mean to be rude, _but_' or 'No offense, _but_', that doesn't make the following statement less rude or offensive, that doesn't just disappear," Reid says. "You say you don't mean it like that, but you do mean it like that, it's just an excuse to say it, because you know your words _are_ going to be offensive and rude, and you accept it, you are willingly and knowingly saying hurtful things. That doesn't magically change just because you say you don't mean it like that, and you probably don't even want it to change, because if you really wouldn't mean it like that, you wouldn't say it like that."

As always, silence follows Reid's little speech. Derek can't really say he doesn't agree with the kid. He has been on the receiving end of "Man, no offense but – " once too often.

The cop pulls a weak you-better-not-fuck-with-me face. "Alright, listen up, kiddo – "

"It's 'Dr. Reid'."

"_Excuse me_?"

It is strange to hear Reid insisting on his title. Gideon did this all the time, so often it was getting annoying. Derek never understood this. Sure, he wanted to grant the kid some authority, but to Derek, it always was pointing out how exceptional, how unusual Reid is even more.

"I am not 'kiddo', the correct way for you to address me is Dr. Reid," the kid says now. "I've earned that title, I've worked for three doctorates that prove my abilities, and I'd appreciate it, if you don't go and just ignore that, for I certainly don't ignore your title, either, officer Collins."

With this, the kid takes his leave, and after sharing another glance with the cop that says 'You shouldn't have messed with the kid, man,' Derek follows.

Hotch talks to JJ, so Derek uses this opportunity to catch up to Reid in their office. He isn't about to fight the grin, because that officer Collins guy annoyed him right from the start. So, "Thank you for letting me witness this, his face was absolutely priceless," he says, because it is amazing how Reid can talk people into the ground.

But Reid has been on edge for quite some time now, and all he says in return is: "Yeah, you're welcome, glad you enjoyed the show."

Derek sighs, because he should have known better. "Pretty Boy – "

"Can y-" He jerks around and looks past Derek, swallowing his raised voice. "Can you stop shoving that in my face?" he hisses and they frown at each other, before Reid moves to organize the photos and the map on the board in brooding silence.

Derek flicks a gaze outside, signing Hotch that he will be there in a second. Then he steps fully inside and closes the door until it remains only a crack wide open. Reid busies himself with crime scene photos.

"What is this about?" Derek asks. The kid doesn't answer. "Reid," he says again, "what is this?"

After another moment, Reid seems to realize that Derek won't just let this slide. He puts the photos aside and swallows thickly. "It's been four months already," he says then.

Derek knows immediately what he means. Gideon. "Yeah," he says, crossing his arms. "So?"

Reid licks his lips and cradles his elbows. "Everyone's judging me," he states. It sounds familiar. "Everyone's… and I don't care about that, it's not about them, people judge me for as long as I can remember."

"Then what is it?" Derek asks.

A pause.

"What if I make a mistake?" he asks, words nothing but a puff of hot air. "What if they're right and I make a mistake and p-" His mouth snaps shut and he looks down.

"Why would you make a mistake?" Derek asks, because he isn't able to follow that train of thoughts.

Reid looks at him as if Derek has lost his mind. "I'm working on the geographical profile _alone_ here," he whispers, sounding almost scandalized.

Derek raises his shoulders into a shrug. "So what?" he says. "It's not like you're responsible for that alone. You try to find a pattern because that's what you do, you lay out your theory and we agree or we don't. That's what we're a team for. You know the drill, kid, why are you freaking out now?" Reid doesn't answer, looking away again, and Derek gets the feeling he suddenly knows that this is about. "Hey. Listen to me." He takes a step closer to the kid for emphasizing. "Gideon is _not_ what makes you a good profiler."

Reid hitches his shoulders. "He's the one who brought me here," he says. Like this is actually a explanation for anything.

"Yeah, I know, but he's not the one who's keeping you here," Derek says. "Think about it, not even Gideon could get the higher ups to let you stay, if you wouldn't do your job right. Your ability to profile people is _not_ bound to Gideon's presence."

The kid looks like Derek caught him red-handed thinking that exact thought, and like that never really occurred to him and like he is ashamed that it didn't. Honestly, if so, he should be.

"So," Derek says, "think you can do that or should I talk to Hotch?"

Of course the kid shakes his head. "No," he rasps, "no, I can do that." And Derek thinks now he believes that himself as well.

He is about to leave as he remembers something, turning around again. "By the way, what was that about shoving what in your face?"

"Ah," he makes, blinking rapidly. "Nothing. Nothing, it's… nothing."

"Right," Derek agrees sarcastically. "C'mon, Reid, while we're already at it."

He hesitates for a second. "It's just, you know, you-you have, you have called me… this, you know, _Pretty Boy_ a couple times now, and I, I mean, I know I'm not, my appearance is not, but I know you probably don't mean anything by it, it's just…"

Oh. That. "Uh…" He doesn't know what to say to that. He hasn't expected this to be a problem. And it isn't like he is saying that all the time. A couple times, yeah, and it was more a slip of the tongue than anything. "I didn't… I don't… I'm not saying this to offend you, you know." He pulls a face, because that, too, sounds oddly familiar.

"No," Reid answers, "no, I didn't really think that, I mean, I know I'm, I, I don't… don't fit the description and that you're only joking – "

"That makes me sound like an asshole," Derek interrupts. Reid doesn't reply. Great. "You know I didn't mean it in any way demeaning or anything, right? It's more… " He huffs a laugh. "It's a nickname, I guess."

Reid looks at him, his expression suddenly open and young and curious, as if introduced to a completely new topic.

"Sorry," Derek finally says. "I won't say it again, it's – "

"No," he interjects hastily, "no, it's… it's alright, I guess. I'm just not really, I'm not used to terms of… of endearment." Like it is his fault now that he felt like being teased by Derek in a for him obviously hurtful way.

Terms of endearment, though. Well, maybe this is the most accurate way to describe it. Reid presses his lips together and Derek waits for him to say something, but he doesn't.

"Morgan!" Hotch calls from outside.

"Yeah, on my way!" he answers. Before he leaves, he turns to Reid once more, asking again: "You can do it?" The kid doesn't say anything, he only gives a nod, but it seems honest. "Alright, Pretty Boy," Derek says, "let's get to work." And while he leaves and Reid fishes for his mobile phone, there is that tiny smile creeping onto his lips that Derek hasn't seen in a while.

It is good to know that Gideon couldn't take it away.

O~O

* * *

So, this is it. You made it! I'm so proud of you!

Now that you're here, what do you think about it? I'm really nervous, I have to admit, because in my humble opinion, it didn't feel like so much for me (but the length speaks for itself, I know). I think I could have pruned it somewhat by cutting some scenes with the whole team or scenes where Reid had to deal with things that didn't directly involve Morgan. I thought about that, but for me, the team belongs there, too, at least a little bit. Some of you might disagree and I respect that. It's just (obviously) my opinion.

With the next chapter, we will actually reach the point where the show starts. Isn't that something? And I will do something I have never done before: I'm going to watch two particular episodes of one particular season that I have never watched in one go before. Ever. Because I'm a weakling and it was just too hard for me to watch. But I will do it for you wonderful people, because I want to give you a show. So much for that, I don't want to spoil things too much here. (I kind of want to, if I'm honest, because I think it would be fun to tell you what I will use and then watch your reaction as to how I used it or something. But no.)

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think, and I'll see you soon with chapter three!


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